Inner Sense Tattoos
by authormelanieray
Summary: Finding her mother's unfinished business, Miss Parker finds herself as Little Miss Parker again. Taking on the suicide mission of rescuing all the children, she finds a wrinkle in the plan when 14 year old Jarod won't let her go.
1. Catherine Parkers Secret

**Author's Note: I am a big fan of multiple endings. (It's why I also write Undertale and DBH) and I saw multiple possibilities for this story.  
**

**Ending 1: This is ending one. It will have a happily ever after.  
**

**Ending 2: The PK's: Has no time travel, but has Miss Parker trapped in a loop. You don't have to read this to read that.  
**

**Pre-Ending 3: The End of The Loop: This is time travel at its finest. Somewhat sad. Made me cry. Have to read this to read that. It will be the final setup before the third ending.  
**

**Ending 3: Ending 3 will have no time travel either. I give cred for happy (not happiest) but most action-packed with a touch of that old Jarod and Parker comedy spark. It's going to be the funnest one of these to write.:)**

Author's Note: This is a Time Traveling Pretender Fanfiction. As such, it can be more difficult to follow. I will be leaving general notes on the bottom of each page as it progresses along. At first, there isn't much to note until it starts reaching chapter 14. Plenty of time to enjoy and adapt. It will be broken up into six acts since large lapses of time and events do occur. Pop open a coke, put on some Pink Floyd and let's get started.:)

* * *

**ACT ONE: JAROD'S BREAKOUT**

**October 6, 1969**

"Little Miss Parker, over here."

LM Parker moved over to the grassy banks over by her mom. "Hi, Mom."

"You want to hear a story?" Her mother asked her. She had her sit down on her lap as she read from one of her favorite books. "I love that book."

"I do too," LM Parker agreed. She looked up at her mom. "It's a beautiful day, today."

"It is. Every day with you is beautiful. You've no idea how special you are to me." Her mother smiled as she stroked her hair. "I never have to think of the hard choices I made in life. You were worth everything." She folded her hands with hers. "Why don't you sing the poems with me?"

Oh. "Okay." It wasn't a big deal. Her mom liked to write poetry, and she wrote some pieces she liked to recite with her. She didn't mind the first one. The second one wasn't her favorite and she never understood or liked the rhythm of the third. But, they were all special to her mother.

The first one was always LM Parker's favorite though. They both sang together, their voices always sounding so right together. "The inner sense, the sunken treasure. The great destroyer, the great curator. Not yet come or the faraway past. A rusted heart will come at last."

Her mom let go of her hand and put up her left index finger. "A key of new and the rust will shine."

LM Parker put up her right index finger. "A key of blue and memory wine."

They pressed their fingers together and sang together again. "Unlocked or locked and the heart will choose. A key of new or a key of blue." Then they started battling their index fingers playfully. "Kiss and tell oh that is fine, but expect a fight nearly all the time!" They put their hands back down and finished. "For once it comes to the final hour. The puzzle key is the final power."

It was so fun, just a nonsensical rhyme that always felt like it had a secret meaning. Just something between them.

"That's fun," her mom said. "Can you sing the second one for me?"

Always had to do them together. "Okay, momma." She recited it. It always sounded half sad. Especially the last part.

LM Parker held up one finger. "It's one. It's one. Nothing done. On one." She held up two fingers. "It's two. It's two. Me-mories. Surface blue." She held up three fingers. "It's three. It's three. Me-mories. Deep blue seas." She held up four fingers. "But there's four. But there's four. You'll never be yourself no mo-ooore." It was always just slightly sad. Why would the number four be so sad? Still, it was her momma's song.

The last one her momma always sang to her. Short and brief. "Danger Danger, caught with a stranger. Memories will be the cost or the hope and keys are lost. Danger Danger, caught in a strange time. The heart will beat one last time, before the keys will come in line."

"You know, you could make a story from your rhymes, Momma," LM Parker said. "Especially the first one. It's my favorite."

"It is the prettiest, but they are all important. You have to have all the views. Life's hard enough." She held her daughter's hand. "A story though, huh? From my little rhymes I tell you?"

"It's all heart and keys except for the middle. The middle is like blue. It's just sad sounding," she said. "Not that I don't like it. It's just? One's my favorite."

"Well. One is very important." Her momma hummed it with her. "But you should remember all three. In fact? I wish I had something better for three. It's the most scariest."

"Two sounds the scariest. Or the saddest," LM Parker said to her mom.

"Oh, two is scary and sad the further you go in the song," her mother agreed. "But three is the scariest."

"Why do you always have to sing the third?" LM Parker asked her mom.

"To not forget." She rocked her daughter gently. "Nostalgia. When I was small? The world felt sooo different."

Oh. It was a growing up song. The third one was a growing up song? "When I get older. Maybe I'll understand the third one a little better."

"I hope not," her mother said. "I mean? Maybe you will." She hummed the first rhyme song to her again.

"Can we go back to reading?" LM Parker asked her mom. "I love when you read to me."

"Yes, I know you do. But don't ever forget our little songs and rhymes either. And? Would you like to meet someone special tomorrow?"

Someone special? "Who am I supposed to meet?"

"His name is Jarod." Her mom smiled. "Not your typical boy, but he's very sweet. Would you like to meet him? He's almost your age. He lives in The Centre."

"Oh? Okay," she agreed easily. "In The Centre. I thought I wasn't supposed to do that much in The Centre? Daddy doesn't like me going that far in there. I usually stay in the back so nobody sees me."

"Well, I think Jarod would like to meet you. He doesn't meet many people where he is. I really want you to meet him. I've talked to his instructor, for a couple of meetings."

A little odd? Her mom wanted her to befriend someone in The Centre? "Can we play?"

"No. Not really," her mother said. "He doesn't get to do that kind of thing. Meeting you though? It's the most important thing in the world. He's a very special boy."

"Okay." She shrugged. She would meet the boy. "Sure. I'll meet him tomorrow."

"Good. I love you, Little Miss Parker." Her mom rubbed her nose playfully, making her laugh. "Always remember the days. Always."

* * *

**2019**

It took so long. Twenty years to find the secrets that her mother left behind. Her unfinished work. Miss Parker wasn't a lovely thirty year old with love and family that she could cherish over the years. She never made that mistake again after Tommy. She never had children either, always too busy. Too busy with nothing but chasing ghosts. Ghosts she'd never catch. Part of her never wanted to catch.

After the island when she found out Raines was her father, the closeness that Jarod and her shared. Hit a brick. The fact he was saying anything to her in a car about what happened when he was in her custody. He spelled it out well. Turning point. She didn't turn and things just became worse. While supposedly looking for signs for Jarod, that's all they did. Look for signs. They found his little lairs maybe a couple of times per year. Jarod didn't want to get caught and he was losing his reasons to stay.

Eventually others were reassigned as they got older. Sydney even moved away. Maybe Jarod communicated with him. Maybe not. Broots moved to be closer to Debbie when she started attending a college further away. The Centre seemed to let him go without much care. By then, other younger computer programmers were found.

Miss Parker stayed though. Why? She didn't even know. She was turned into a mostly regular sweeper and when Raines died, Lyle took over. Which was fine. That old man hung on way past the time he should have and Miss Parker didn't want The Centre. She just had one thing she wanted. The one thing she'd been looking for. Her mother's unfinished work.

Although she was older now, she could still turn some heads, but not as many. Whenever she walked into The Centre, it always felt more like a chore now. It wasn't exciting. It was just 2019 now. Another new year.

"Hey, didn't you used to work on the old Jarod cases?"

She looked behind her as some upstart tried to speak to her. Not that she really cared who talked to her. Jarod though. That name. "What about it. Did you ever get a single DSA?"

"A what?" He asked. "No. Those DSA's are too old, modified way too easy. He could show it to anyone, who cares?"

Damn little upstart. "Then what are you stopping me and my coffee for?" she asked bitterly. Like this kid had ever even seen the back of Jarod.

He gave her a sour look but handed her the keys. "It's over, The Centre stopped caring finally. Here. This is the evidence room to everything we dragged up over the years."

Miss Parker looked at the key and watched him walk away. The hell? "What am I supposed to do with this?!"

"You're one of the originals, right?" The upstart yelled back. "Get all of it stacked, updated, and seal it up already. Original catchers are the best, they got the most information."

"What?!"

"Mister Lyle's orders!" He yelled back at her.

_Damn it!_ "Son of a-." Great. Now she had to spend her time sorting through twenty years of Jarod's bullshit! Well, only the first few held the most. Still, a time waster, and not something she wanted to do. Rediscover the past. Look into it. She finished her coffee quickly and headed to the room. At first when she got there, she tried to categorize it by pretends. Author to Zookeeper. Then, as she got looking into it, she found herself dwelling on more than just pretends.

There was so much of him. Everything he had done. Even the last case, the last time anyone saw him in 2017, he was still Pretending. Still helping. _I hope he found his mom. _Did he ever reunite with his family? Did he ever make a real life at any point? Try a real life like with a wife or children? Did he ever try to get a job he felt compelled to get because he wanted to instead of needed to? Did he ever learn to live for himself?

Because she never did. Nothing but coffee in her hand and regrets. It's not like she wanted to go back to that car, at the 'turning point' and change into his direction. She didn't want that. And if there was some magic ball out there to do that, it wouldn't be that moment. After all those years of hurt and torture caused between them? It wasn't the time to jump and say 'let's go'. _You can only turn when you have somewhere to turn to. _She didn't see it. She still didn't see it.

When she finally retired from The Centre, she still wouldn't see it. When she looked out of her home's window for the last time for a final breath, she still wouldn't see it. There was nothing to see.

Except, one thing. Miss Parker noticed something that wasn't part of Jarod's collection. Over the years, there had been some people, little by little, that came out of the woodwork. The older things became, it seemed the more regret betrayed people. Someone had snuck something of her mother's in there. At least, that's what she imagined it had been. It was labeled _unfinished business_. She took it and stashed it away. She didn't dwell on the memories, just tried to get Jarod's things done and put away as fast as she could, so she could go look at it. After all, it was just dwelling on memories. Not something she needed, or should do, at her age.

Inside the collection of her mother's was a video. On it, was her mother. Smiling at her from her chair. Just like other Centre videos she expected her to start talking to somebody. Instead? She started talking to her. "Hello, Little Miss Parker. I know that it's been," She breathed deeply, "a very long time since we last talked. I know that you've been looking for my unfinished business. Here it is." She smiled. "Your inner sense. I know that by now you have it under enough control, hopefully, to do what needs to be done." She placed out her hands. "Inner sense does more than show the future, Honey. It echoes your feelings and thoughts to the universe . . ."

If it had been anyone else but her beloved mother, she would have turned it off. Miss Parker dealt with the metaphysical unrealistic statements she made, having experienced the inner sense herself. She was more interested in the fact that her mother was there, looking at her, with new words she'd never heard her utter. A new conversation she never heard.

"Sacrifices must be made for the greater good." Her mother smiled, that terrific smile only she could give. "I need you to finish my unfinished business, Little Miss Parker."

_Unfinished business. _Words that haunted her for a large degree of her life. Words she never gave up on solving, but ultimately never lead anywhere.

Her mother told her to close her eyes. Miss Parker did as she listened to her words. Comforting. Warm. Almost therapeutic. She asked her to identify her mistakes in life. Her regrets. She asked her to identify when she could repair those regrets in one day. One single day. _One single day._

She couldn't repair everything, that must be her mother's point. To go on with life and just enjoy living it. _No way, there's more to it than that. _She continued to listen to her mother's words, to search for that day, whatever day it had been. What did she smell? What was the world like? Conversations around her? Friends, trusted ones in the room? And the kicker at the end?

"Until you know, to the best of your ability, that you tried to remember every single detail you could and followed my complete instructions?" Her mother sighed. "You'll never find my unfinished business."

Miss Parker opened her eyes. _How is remembering a single day going to do a damn thing for me? _She'd rather give up and go home, but she'd seen some incredible things in the past. _Maybe she knows the date? Maybe she saw it through her inner sense? Maybe there's something in there I'm forgetting on that exact day. _She didn't know how to reason with it, but she'd do it. She listened to the second part of it, over and over.

It was like peeling back layers. At first she only remembered it slightly. She could smell The Centre, but she was never at The Centre that day. _I was at The Centre the other day. _It'd be too far in the future. No, one day. Her mother said one day. As she listened to her mother's voice, kept her eyes closed and her senses opened, time drifted away.

* * *

**Minutes to hours . . .**

The world of that day, she could almost taste it now. _Like a nice . . . _cigarette? No, that wasn't a cigarette. That was a faded taste of candy. _That's right, I didn't smoke yet. Still a good girl. _Changing into her current form, still an adolescent. Obeying daddy. At a good party. Twelvish.

For several more hours she kept her eyes closed and focused. Focused on her feelings back then. Focused on the smells of that party. Remembering how she felt. How she acted. Conversations. The outside world tried to barge in with sunlight coming through the window, but she blocked it out. No matter what it took. She'd do what her mother wanted.

Blurry at first. Miss Parker could see a small social party she was at. No longer older, but young and ready to take on the world.

She could _feel _something in her mouth. The taste of a faint sucker she hadn't tasted in years. Vague, but there. Not like that Brigitte's one off cheap forgettable suckers. No, private company stock made delicious delectable. She could hear someone ask her if she wanted to dance with them. "Not on your life, Creep."

* * *

**1973**

"Not on your life, Creep." Miss Parker flung her sucker at him, smiling as he danced around from the surprise.

It wasn't blurry anymore, it was sharp. Detailed. Crisp. She could hear conversations around her about relevant matters in school no one else would remember a month from then. She licked her lips, tasting the_ very_ sugar of the sucker, aptly being able to even name the brand. She hadn't tasted that in a long time. Oh, how she regretted throwing it now. That company went out of business so long ago.

Miss Parker felt a shockwave move past her. She moved her hand to her mouth in disbelief as she started coughing. _Impossible. What? _She saw the dork that just bothered her. "What?"

"What are you on?" he criticized her.

Miss Parker rolled her eyes. "I'm not on anything." Her daddy would kill her. Way too young. She reached in her pocket for another sucker. That party was dull compared to others she'd been to. It was just a middle of the Christmas break party. Not the better ones going out, or the good ones coming into the break. Middle of the road, not exciting. Shouldn't have bothered coming to it.

She had to keep her focus though that year which meant approved parties only. Daddy wouldn't let her slow down in her studies. She had to be top notch in order to run The Centre when she got older.

While she thought of The Centre though, something new flashed in her mind as she grabbed another sucker from her pocket.

A face of someone she used to know well. Why was he bothering her? She tried to concentrate on making the face go away again, but instead she saw a strange vision.

A vision of her mother, lighting a cigarette in the dark with mere illumination from the flame. She was talking to someone. Someone who sounded . . .

Miss Parker threw her sucker away along with her punch. "I'm serious, did someone slip me something?!" She yelled into the crowd. "It isn't funny!" Someone _had_ to have. Probably trying to make it more exciting. There's no reason she would be having all those thoughts randomly. When nobody came forward, she did the smart thing and left the party. Boring anyway. She went outside to her chauffeur. Daddy made sure she always had a chauffeur until she could reliably drive by herself. That felt like forever away.

She hopped into the back of the car. "Home," she said. Home was her private dorm room and he knew it well. There was little conversation on the way there. When she got there she went straight up without a word. Daddy paid enough to make sure the chauffeur stuck around no matter how little or how much she interacted. Even if she was mean, it'd be there.

She went into her dorm room. Her private school had homing on the grounds which her dad enjoyed. Saved on people watching her, or her having to bother him at The Centre. She didn't care. It was either there or smelling the dead scent of The Centre. Who wanted to spend time in that place? It wasn't great just to hang out in that weird place, with that . . . elevator.

Then another vision hit her. She saw him again. That familiar boy. Jarod, but older. _Much_ older. "Who cares?" She tried to ignore it. She'd ignored him for a couple of years already, why was she even bothering with this? He belonged to The Centre, he belonged to Daddy, and she couldn't get him out if she wanted to.

She certainly didn't want to. She had her own life to live. She felt angry enough when she even had to go back to the dusty old Centre. One day when she was older and treated like an equal there, then maybe The Centre wouldn't be so bad. Walking along those halls though, even at thirteen, they all still saw her as someone that shouldn't be there. So many blocks on her. Still calling her 'Little Miss Parker'. Even though she'd developed a little, a lot of the girls in her school were way more advanced. Until she looked older, she'd be treated like a kid.

If it weren't for her many passes into some areas to make sure she could find her daddy or help, she'd be treated worse than a janitor. She hated it! It was better not to be there.

_/"Daddy, just please put me back in corporate."/_

What? _That was mom._ Corporate? "What the heck is going on with me?" She moved toward her bed. "I'm not going insane." She rubbed her eyes. "Sleep, that's it. I'll just get some sleep." She rearranged her pillows.

_/"He defends the weak and abused."/_

She grabbed onto her pillow as she snapped out of it again. "Oh no, someone did drug me." It was such a minor party, even approved, so what did they give her? She wanted to reach for her phone and call Daddy. He'd make sure she was safe and anyone who was supposed to be responsible paid for what happened! But then?

She was a pretty woman. Like her mother, but not. More firm. More deliberate, not tender. She was older and trapped behind a desk with her eyes closed. Whispering something. Weird things. Weird facts. And.

Miss Parker clung to the pillow as she remembered. "My inner sense." It was the gateway. It was what The Centre had wanted. With it, she could see into the future.

Miss Parker closed her eyes again. Another vision in front of her. This one, not as distant.

Jarod. She hadn't seen him in some time. She was there in front of him. Releasing him. She was telling herself that her own life didn't matter. She never made anything of herself, but Jarod would be worth it. Momma would want her to do it. And then, everything came screeching back to her. Getting pulled out of corporate, chasing Jarod, scenes of Las Vegas, Tommy's smile, Brigitte's cheap suckers with no class, Lyle's cannibalistic smile, Jarod's clone, the fire with Brigitte and her baby brother, Ethan and the train . . .

Miss Parker picked up the phone. "Daddy?" She called him. "I don't feel so good right now. I think someone drugged me at the party." Of course, he told her it was a terrible time for a visit to The Centre. She knew what time it had been. Reviews were up for the Triumvirate to see. A one time decade ritual affair that stopped soon after Jarod escaped. "I know, I won't be a nuisance, Daddy. I just don't feel good. At all. I'm scared." However, she was also his Angel. "You also said that you'd spend my birthday with me? That was a couple of days ago. Not that I'm making excuses, Daddy, but I'm sick? Please? I feel like I'm dying." That would pull the trigger for him. "For me?"

That weekend. It was _that_ weekend. The turning point. She couldn't be at home or just get away with a ride. She needed to be squarely invited into The Centre.

* * *

**For your enjoyment! I am trying a new way to explain what is going on to each of them by putting what they remember so far down below instead. This won't change very much for several chapters.**

Miss Parker remembers: The original time of the 90's and going back in time to 1973.

Jarod remembers: Nothing

Broots remembers: Not Here Yet


	2. When Suicide Missions Go Awry

Little Miss Parker is ready to give her very life to make sure her mother's unfinished business is finally complete. Jarod though, he's got this like, thing, where he won't let her die. It irritates her.

* * *

**The Centre**

"Such a bad time," Mister Parker complained to her. "Oh, Angel, this is terrible timing! The Triumvirate is visiting, I am being . . ."

Watched. Reviewed. He couldn't say that back then to her. Miss Parker just nodded. "I know, Daddy. I won't be a nuisance, I promise."

"Medical said everything looked good," he insisted. "You should get back home. We'll celebrate your birthday when I get a chance."

"I don't want to be far from you," she insisted. "I was never far from momma when I felt this sick." It was making her feel sick to her stomach to use that against him. She was a tough child, a _tough _tween, and hell on wheels as an adult.

"Medical said." He tried to say it again. "I am so busy today, Honey." He sighed. "Stay here, in the office. I'll come back and forth during my rounds. Okay?" He got up. "Be sure to lie down. I know I shouldn't have a single door locked? But, oh! I _can _unlock it, and they can see inside. They'll just have to deal!" he complained. "I'll be back every ten minutes to see you, I promise."

"Thanks, Daddy." He meant an hour, she knew the way he worked. Ten minutes to him was an hour. "I won't touch anything, I promise. I'll just lie down." She grabbed her stomach and curled up. "I love you, Daddy."

"Ah. You too, Angel."

That week, everything would lighten up for the Triumvirate. _Everything. _They wanted to have access to see all actions that were going on in The Centre. Nothing was behind any firewalls. For those two days only. Cells would be locked, but rooms would have full access with the lightest of passes. Any door should be opened for any curiosity of the Triumvirate.

The Triumvirate watched The Centre, and The Centre watched them during that time. Allies and enemies, an unsteady force. Once every ten years, they would each grant open access. Share everything they had to strengthen their bond. Their trust. For her Daddy, it was more about showing them that The Centre had worked and progressed a great deal without all their interference with every project.

Review wouldn't come again until she was twenty three-ish, but Miss Parker had known the children would be much too old by then. Jarod would be in there another ten years. No. They all deserved their best chance. Besides, it would all end the same way for her. _That's why momma said it. Sacrifices must be made. She knows I didn't find it too young. _It was hard to believe. Even right then, even being smack dab right there. It was hard to believe.

Her inner sense session with Sydney, it had allowed her to see into the future. She had only lightly tapped it that day in the early 2000's. Looking to find out the truth.

Her inner sense session with her mother? It had allowed her to not just see into the past. But to go back to it. _Sydney__ would never believe this. No one would ever believe this. _She looked at her young skin. Not even able to have a license yet. Shoot, she wouldn't even have a permit yet. _I feel so close to this age, yet so far away. _She looked away again. Her emotions felt like they were melting. Who wanted to live to be thirteen again and move on with life? Not many, which is why she knew how she'd handle it. _Go all out._

It took hours upon hours, from evening to the next morning with her mother's constant voice for her to achieve what she did. How could she do that again?

She couldn't. There was no way she could go back. She was stuck in the 1970's. _Pull it together. Okay? Just, pretend you aren't a kid. It is a suicide mission you take with honor to save someone you love. _Except it wasn't. _I don't understand! Why mom? Why this?_ Two sides of herselves. Hot with life. Filled with understanding. _You swore you'd find it and you'd get it, Parker. Your thirteen now, but you** aren't**. You know what's ahead of you. Nothing. The best thing in your world was Tommy, and you even lose him. What regrets are there if this is it?_

Feeling resolved, she got back up and headed straight to her dad's business computer. It wasn't exactly fresh, but the information wasn't so old it would be deleted yet. Broots would have found it in seconds, but it still didn't take her long. 1970 technology wasn't hard to crack, even at The printed out a quick copy of everything. She took the copies and stashed it away. Jarod was the hardest. Jarod came first.

Now, she went into the history and research of the patients. It was all in a history database. It took several more sheets of paper, but when it was done, she ripped off the paper and stole them too.

Everything from the information of the kidnapped children her mother tried to save but couldn't, as well as Jarod's parents were in her hands. Heck, she even knew his first dog was named Diggery. That was new. A stupid name, but new.

She left the room. With that done, she went to Sydney's office and slipped all the papers below his door except Jarod's personal ones. Sydney would see it and figure out how to blow the whistle himself about all the children. He could take over for mother. Figure it out. There. Now? "That's it," she whispered to herself holding Jarod's information. "That's it."

Miss Parker made her way down to Jarod. She didn't need a whole lot of fancy things to get to him. She never did. Her father had access easily to things, and she was his daughter. If they put up a fuss, she always had proof. It meant she even saw Jarod _before _she was supposed to meet him. She'd just been curious one day, hanging around, and wanted to see how far she could get. Moving towards his area, she saw how much nothing changed. The Centre never changed. Jarod's growth only came from books, he had no access to the outside. _Not for long. _She was sure to stop and get that thing he'd want more than anything. One of the main reasons she thought they were hunting him at first.

The DSA's.

No one ever stopped the way she always went to see him. She never even knocked. No one did. What would he say, 'come in'? Maybe Sydney was nice, but he never had a choice anyway. She unlocked his door and went in. All white. Blinding. Just like always, only muted colors.

"Miss Parker."

She looked to her right. He had papers he was working on. Probably thinking he was saving people but most likely sending someone to their doom instead. "Hi."

He'd grown. About the same age as her, slightly older, she hadn't seen him since . . . for awhile. In either time.

"Yes?" He asked. "You need something?"

Oh, he just wanted to reject her and throw her out. She knew it. She only made use of him, when she needed him. She only visited when she needed his talents. Even for special projects that were exciting, he didn't get a choice. He was needed.

He learned as he got older that she wasn't using him as the friend he should have been. She was using his intellect only. Even the last time she saw him. A toy. A use for her. She was never his friend. What he ever saw in her, she'd never know, but whatever it was back then? It was before she was thirteen. Ten maybe but not now. It felt so weird looking at him after all that time. She just left him there. Not a word.

Her young vitality seemed to feel drained again as she stared at Jarod. At that age, he still looked a lot more like his clone from the Gemini project.

"Hello?" He asked, getting tired of her silence. "What is it? I'm kind of busy right now, Miss Parker. It_ might_ not be the best time, I have work to do."

Oh, he soo wanted to tell her off. If he could, he would, but he couldn't. "Jarod."

"It's my name. It's the only thing I have." He just half made eye contact with her. "Can we hurry this up? Is that a sheet I need to cover up from Mister Parker?"

She looked at his sheet. "No." She went toward him and handed the papers and the DSA briefcase to him. "It's yours. Late birthday present."

He took both things. "I don't understand?" He looked at the paper. "My parents, you have information on my parents." He glanced back at her slowly. "You cared to get this to me?"

Ah. He was still making his mind up about her? She hadn't been vicious enough to trigger him completely away yet at that age. He wanted to see if she still cared? Cute but no time and not important. "The Centre imprisoned you, Jarod, that's your real parents information," she said quickly. "They aren't dead. I'm getting you out tonight, so go out and find them as quickly as possible. It just gets harder the longer you are out there, so don't pitter patter around, okay?" Yeah. Now he was speechless. "Follow me and hurry it up."

"My parents, really?" He lifted the DSA briefcase gently. "But-"

"Yeah, yeah, I freaking care, just come on!" She didn't have _time for this _and her nerves were now steel. She needed to do this before she lost them again. "Get up and follow me." She went a different way, not her usual way so she wasn't asked anything about the boy following her. _Yet._

Fortunately, most of The Centre didn't really know about what Jarod looked like, or would be expecting him. He was one of the more special, secret projects at the time.

Now? Explanation time for him. "My mom was special, Jarod. She had this thing called Inner Sense, and she was able to project future events into her head, as well as the past. I'm going to grow up and go far away from here. You'll be trapped here until your older than thirty. When you get out, you have a hard time getting to your parents, and I'm assigned to chase you down. I keep chasing you. I never catch you and I just have a bitter life with no meaning." Last words. "I had her inner sense too. There's a lot out there, Jarod, and you have a real shot at getting it now."

"I don't understand," Jarod said. "You know the future? You saw the future?"

"Honestly, Boy Wonder." How could she get it across? "I feel like I was the one who experienced it all." She went over to the phone. "Okay don't judge me too harshly." She picked up the phone and then thought about. "Then again, you probably won't even understand what I'm talking about anyway." She dialed a number. A part of her felt sick inside. At thirteen she was only starting to change into the rock hard woman that had the guts to stand The Centre. A large part was still innocent. "Hello? Hi, this is Miss Parker? Um? I have a little problem. My boyfriend kind of got stuck in The Centre?"

That's how she knew what it took to get Jarod out. It had happened to her when she was older. She knew the procedure they would take. "Yeah. No," she uttered to the person on the phone judging her. "I don't know. I never go this way. I was just trying to be exciting for him. Uh? I can't do that, he is sort of now accidentally an active patient? Yeah. How? We were sort of . . . role playing." Of course they were judging her. "Look you aren't my dad, I can do what I want at thirteen, okay?!" Ugh, that sounded terrible. Way too young. "Fine, okay! But the Triumvirate is here this week and if _they_ see him here . . ."

Waiting. _Bingo._ They couldn't risk having anything bad happen during review, and Miss Parker, obedient and lovely young daughter of Mister Parker, caught _role playing_ with her boyfriend in a sub level? It was an instant ticket out without any time for a basic lookup.

"Yeah, okay, I'm sending him up now. Get a taxi ready for him. Yeah I know you have to tell Daddy. Thanks." Done. She looked back at Jarod and he was still clueless as ever. Simpleton didn't understand the language.

"You told them I'm a boyfriend, you made an active patient, for role playing?" He asked. "Role playing what?"

No way was she explaining. "Up the stairs, Jarod. Staff is watching all exits for you. Play follow the leader until you are out of The Centre."

"But, wait." He didn't move yet. "You just got me out of The Centre?"

"Yeah. Duh. Go." Miss Parker fidgeted around for the money she stole. Enough to get him by until his brilliant mind could figure out something. Most likely he could, probably be one of the earliest hackers. He also had Sydney. Once he contacted Sydney, and Sydney got the papers from underneath his office door, they should both be able to go on their merry way to a new life, setting all the children free. Done deal. Good to go.

"I can't," Jarod refused. "They'll hurt you, Miss Parker."

"I can take care of myself." She'd try to run on her own. One of three things would happen. Daddy would find her and she would be sent to live away, but ultimately called back somehow. Probably after doing something absolutely terrible The Centre would love. Two, the Triumvirate would get her, and instantly kill her. If she was lucky. Or? Three. Raines would find her and . . . "Go." It was for her mother.

"No." Jarod wasn't moving. "I don't understand exactly everything," Jarod confessed, "but I do know that I'd never leave you out here. Thank you," he said to her. "Really, thank you! It was amazing you tried to do this, but if I leave-"

"I told you, Jarod." Not a budge. "Leave! Get out of here!"

While she turned around though, he grabbed her arm up. "No. I know what I have to do."

"Let go, Jarod." Oh, Jarod was already stronger than her. "What are you doing?"

"You'll be killed," Jarod repeated. "Come on."

"Come on? Are you kidding? It's going to be hard enough for you!" She tried to jerk away. "Jarod! I'll survive, so stop this! You don't get it!"

"No," Jarod said to her. "You're sticking with me now, Miss Parker. We'll survive out there together."

Together? "Jarod."

"No. I _won't _go without you," Jarod said again, sounding like he was starting to believe. "No regrets, no matter what happens. Just pretend your coming with your boyfriend. Which is me in this situation. Right?"

His chances would weaken with her. She did steal_ some _money, but it wasn't going to last forever. It wasn't going to be easy. They would have to figure out something with Sydney even faster. "Jarod."

"I'm your boyfriend," he said again as they got closer. "Don't blow the cover, or I will too." He moved her to the door first. "After you, Miss Parker."

"You're going to have problems, Jarod, the world isn't easy! It's going to be hard enough with one person this young, let alone two people!" So infuriating still! "Don't you get it? Let me stay and you go or we'll both eventually die out there!" He still wouldn't budge. She had no choice. Damn Jarod.

Putting his life on the line for hers.

* * *

**Miss Parker Remembers: The original time of the 90's and going back in time to 1973.**

**Jarod: Nothing**

**Broots: Not Here Yet**


	3. Jarod Remembers

**Centre Escort Approved Taxi**

To say Jarod had an interesting day was putting it mildly. He was in a car, pretending to be a boyfriend to Miss Parker, and thinking of how to plan an escape as well as make Miss Parker feel better. About not letting her get herself killed.

Yeah. It was a day. That didn't even mention the facts he now had about his parents, having a brother The Centre also had that she couldn't save, a new sister, or apparently a half brother they shared? Together. By _his_ dad. It was . . . a heavy day.

She told him as much as she knew, as well as what to watch out for on the way to the car before they got in. He guessed, in case she got killed. Now she was quiet and generally mad in the corner. She said her inner sense was weaker and she didn't know if she would always remember everything. She didn't know how time worked. She didn't know how anything worked.

Neither did Jarod. The whole inner sense and time thing made absolutely no scientific sense to him at all. It could have been a nightmare with maybe heavy medications? He had no idea what her life was like and he knew from research young adults sometimes did illegal drug use for recreational reasons. It didn't sound like her, but he hadn't known her for some time. She hardly came back to see him except for favors. He had become favor boy to her. Even that night, when he saw her, he just knew she wanted something and then she'd be gone.

But then, why? How did she know all this information? Why after all these years of not even stopping by to say a friendly hello did she want to risk everything to free him? Jarod had no answers to any of it.

All he knew now was that he was freed from The Centre, and in the real world. As exciting as that was, he also knew_ why_ Miss Parker didn't want to go with him. He had not only a lot to learn about it, but? He wasn't even 18, which was the age in society where most people went out on their own. They were 13 and 14, and starting tonight? He had no idea where they would stay. How they'd survive.

But he knew, he couldn't just let her go. He could survive. He would survive. She'd survive too. There was also Sydney, he could help. He helped with everything. Right? Sydney didn't know he was taken yet, even she said that. He had to believe that. _He'll help. Once we get away. I'm sure of it. He won't let me down. Right? I can . . . trust him?_

Jarod turned his head to look at Miss Parker sulking in the corner. "I'm sorry, I couldn't do it," he apologized. "The chances of you escaping, even with your knowledge of the security system, was incredibly small considering your overall intellectual quotient." Sour.

She glanced toward him. "We're almost out. Then you better go a separate way from me, Jarod."

Huh? No way. "We need each other," he tried to explain. "I may need cultural help. I could only learn what The Centre wanted me to learn. You need me too, Miss Parker. You're a young female going through puberty." The look. "Girl. Woman?"

"Predators won't be after me," she said getting the hint. "I know how to fight, Jarod, but it doesn't even matter."

She could fight at thirteen? Jarod knew the concept, felt the simulation, but the actual fighting. Weird. "It does matter." Even though he kept her from getting caught in The Centre, for some reason, she just didn't want to stay together. "I'm fourteen according to the birth date you gave me but I'm fairly sure I could pass for an eighteen year old with the right identification traits, Miss Parker." Still nothing. "Are you okay?"

She just shook her head. "Leave me alone."

"Does it really_ feel_ like you traveled through time? Does it feel like a dream?" Jarod asked her. "Do you have any weird sensations or tingles inside of your body that you can't identify? Is your mouth dry and did you drink any kind of substance that could be tampered with?" He could tell by her expression she wasn't happy about his assumptions. Well? "Like it or not," Jarod said, "you made this happen. We have to stick together."

"I did this for her, not for me," she complained. "This is ruining your chances of success, Jarod. Don't you get it?"

"Sydney always taught me that life wasn't about being fair or getting what you want. You have to accept all the consequences and actions in it. While freeing me, you doomed yourself to stay and live your life starting from now. Whether or not it is time travel or the purposeful or accidental use of illegal substances, the effect is the same. You and I are in this together now."

She groaned. "I should have just been shot."

* * *

\- "wha?" Jarod looked around. _Taxi? _He looked at himself. Seemingly much younger. He held out his hand and watched it move around, then looked to the corner door. "Parker. What did you _do_?"

She looked back toward him going from mad to curious. "Jarod?"

Yep. He rubbed his face. What was this?! "Great." Survey. He was young, and they were in a classic Centre car on hand whose model had been replaced in the 1980's. The outfit of the person driving the car. The view outside. People's clothes. Unless he was somehow in the middle of the greatest stage play of the 1970's in the history of time? No, that still wouldn't explain his skin. He smacked his cheeks, feeling more elasticity and he looked at his shortened stature.

He knew what happened. He didn't know _how_ it happened, but he knew it happened. After all those years, The Centre had one more fantastic thing up its sleeve that he couldn't comprehend. "So, what am I, fifteen? Sixteen?"

"Fourteen and there's no way." She was trying to convince herself. "No one else remembers, you can't remember."

"What did you do?!"

"Shutup! I just. Watched a . . . video," she said offhand. "Then I just. Did this."

"That doesn't happen from watching a video," he complained. He looked out the door. "You don't even work on my cases anymore, what are you trying to do to me?" He'd find a way out of this. "Did you drug me? Drag me back in right beforehand? To say you finally caught me, was it that damn important?"

"You! Shutup!" She unleashed on him. "I didn't do this to you or for you, I did it for my mother!"

"You kids, shut up back there!" The driver yelled at both of them. "Damn."

Jarod started to mess with the door, until he blinked and grabbed at his head, remembering. Different memories.

_"Up the stairs, Jarod. Staff is watching all exits for you. Play follow the leader until you are out of The Centre."_

_"But, wait." He didn't move yet. "You just got me out of The Centre?"_

_"You're going to have problems, Jarod, the world isn't easy! It's going to be hard enough with one person this young, let alone two people! Don't you get it? Let me stay and you go or we'll both eventually die out there!"_

He stopped messing with the door. Memories were toppling memories. He remembered the day one way, and then the other way. He looked back at her. "Inner sense."

"Shut up," she said again.

"A video?" Jarod asked.

She groaned. "I found my mother's video. I . . . worked through it, like I did with Sydney one time with my inner sense. Something happened, and . . ." She flailed an arm around. "I was doing it all for her last wish."

"Saving the children." He sat back in his chair. That meant him too. He looked back at his hands. So surreal. Still? "You rescued me and then what?" He searched through his thoughts but didn't see anything. "You didn't even give me any money."

"I was going to," she said standoffishly. "I have it, but you pulled me up."

"Never were real good at charity work. Can you just get this reversed?" Come on.

"If I could, I would have, don't you think so?" She glared at him. Amazing. That nice girl persona he had of her with her sweet smile and friendliness when he was younger. That same beautiful appearance, reduced to a scowl to him.

Jarod hit the door in frustration. All of his Pretender credentials over the years, gone. His opportunities were much more limited due to his age. Even his appearance when he faked his age would still shove him into inexperienced fields. Not to mention-

"Ah, for the love of- Unfinished business just bites me in the ass. _Why_ do I have to deal with you too?"

-he would now have to deal and watch Miss Parker. "Not even Daddy can pull you out of this one." He looked back at the driver. "Driver. Drop us off at the next town. Thanks."

* * *

"Mom always was a smooth talker," Miss Parker complained again as she looked around herself. "Why'd we get out here?"

"Why do you think?" Jarod said. "I can't conjur up a fake ID in a night. We need some help. We need Sydney." He moved to the payphone next to them and checked his pockets. He held his hand out to see if she'd been telling the truth. She put some money in his hand. She wasn't lying. "Cash is good, but cash isn't getting us into a hotel without some kind of identification. At least, not a hotel we want to be in."

"Just. This is unreal," Miss Parker complained again, her breath being seen in the night air. "A video. A video of my mother's voice could make this happen?" She looked toward him. "Stop that gloating look."

"Yeah," he teased her. "Pardon me, I'll try to forget you had a heart." Now, Sydney. This would be a hard one to explain, but he knew enough he should be able to get in. Like the fact he'd actually know Sydney's home number in the first place.

"Look, you're really smart," Miss Parker tried to butter up on him. "Maybe it's like avatars, and when we're eliminated, we go back to our world?"

"Well, I'm not going to kill myself to find out," Jarod said. "That theory is too dangerous to try." He heard the phone ring. Dang, no answer yet.

"Well, we have to do_ something_," she complained. "We can't just live the rest of our lives starting from here, Jarod! You're the genius. Do your genius thing."

"Fresh out of a genius thing for this," Jarod said, "I don't know a way out of this." Still no answer. "We might have to hang out on the street until morning."

"I don't even know where I am," Miss Parker said. "Do you?"

"There's a sign." He hung the payphone up and looked at the sign at the corner. "See?"

"I mean, I don't travel to this town," she said.

"Really? No boyfriends that you role played with in the sub levels are from here?" He teased her, some of the recent memories coming back again refreshed.

She crossed her arms. "I didn't do it at thirteen, Smart Ass! I just knew it would work."

"Wonder how," He said snarkily.

"Knock it off," she said. "Where should we hang out until we can talk to Sydney?"

"It's great being a genius. People expect you to pull magic rabbits out of a hat," Jarod complained. "I don't know. Just be on your guard."

She crossed her arms. "You were a lot nicer _before_ you remembered." She shrugged slightly. "Little more annoying. Give and take."

"It's all give and take, and we aren't even going into being nice," Jarod warned her. "Coming back and stranding me at this age isn't quite what I had in mind for today."

"Well, damn, I tried, Jarod! I even stole some money for you to give you a lift up," She said. "A video, and I had no idea what she was plotting! Mom was good. I forgot how clever she was too."

"Okay. We're both stressed." Completely. "Let's just look at the facts? We're both here, in the past, _again_. I have no fake ID's, we are too young for a hotel, and we are in the middle of somewhere with no shelter. But? We aren't in The Centre." He smiled. "That makes it all worth while." He looked at himself. "I may be younger too, but tell me I _look_ close to 18?" That would give him something to work with.

"Just turned 14 and your still baby soft," she muttered. "So am I." She looked at herself with some light distain.

Jarod knew what she was thinking about. Even though she acted tough, she was nowhere near the size she'd been when Jarod escaped. Didn't even wear fancy heels yet. _Come on, __Sydney__. _He rang again, trying to get an answer. Where was he?

"Oh no!"

Jarod turned to look at her quickly.

"It's going to be harder to get a drink or bum a smoke looking like this."

He rolled his eyes. "You're not supposed to do those things."

"My health is fine now," she said. "Chasing you is what put it in jeopardy, Jarod."

"Oh sure, your ulcer was all me and not all the years you drank and smoked? Stop before you even start. You're only what, thirteen?"

"For now. Until we figure out a way out of here," she complained. "Inner Sense _has_ to be like a small trip. I only felt the future for a little while one time. Don't forget to work on that thinking."

Okay. Alright. _Difficult time. Let it slide. Come on, __Sydney__, you are always there when I call. _Nothing. "Why isn't he answering?"

"If he's at The Centre, he'll have to be there to answer any and all questions to the Triumvirates if they ask any," Miss Parker said. "Full access this week to them, and vice versa. A sign of trust to each other. As long as even one 'special guest' is there, he can't leave. That means he won't be going home for awhile."

Now that was interesting. "I don't get it, I didn't know about this," Jarod said.

"Of course not." She stuck her foot out slightly in annoyance. "After you left, you sucked up a lot of money when they were looking. What would you do when they weren't looking?"

"What was this trust thing?" He was still curious.

"Every decade. All the patients of The Centre would stay locked up, but everything else was unlocked to the lightest security. Everyone had to take the weekend off if they weren't in high end projects, even those that worked them. They were paid so they didn't cause any problems. Extra security was mounted, outside just in case someone changed their minds, they were dealt with."

Yeah. They would definitely stop that after he broke out and took that money. The lightest of security? He could have broken out anyone. _Catherine Parker triggered her to think of this special day somehow. _If he had known about it, maybe he wouldn't have even needed the other Pretenders' help back then. "Not many cell phones yet," he said sarcastically. Not in 73. If the phone book in front of him was recent enough. Jarod hung up. They were on their own tonight. "Come on, Parker. It's chilly. We need to find a better place to go."

They both walked down the street. Jarod tried to hold her hand. Not something she wanted, but she finally relented.

"There's a place to eat," he noticed. "Twenty four hours. We should be good there."

"We're underage, Jarod," she reminded him. "There's no way they are letting us stay all night."

"We can stay long enough to warm up, get some food in our belly, and think." No kidding. He had his stomach filled with The Centre's diet. "I hope they have donuts."

* * *

When they got there, Jarod ordered two meals, with two chocolate chip cookies and some chocolate milk. "Chocolate milk is always good," he said sipping on it. "Works wonders sometimes."

Miss Parker didn't say anything as she ate her meal.

"It's good to see you eat regular food. Before you got all Parkified," Jarod teased. Then, he had a brief flashback. Time mending itself lightly again. He felt his heart race. His mind just traced itself a few years into the future. "They told me they died in a plane crash. They tried to make me think The Centre was all there was, that my parents would never come or see me." His whole body throbbed remembering. _1973._ 1974\. 75. His hands seized up. 76.

"Jarod?" Parker asked concerned. "You okay?"

"October." She was still clueless but he knew she must have seen it. She would always be getting into business she was curious about. "Th-they were . . . withdrawals."

"Oh." Then, realizing she probably sounded too nice. "I'm not a fairy, Jarod, I can't control memories." Then she flipped slightly again. "You sure you're okay?"

Jarod recovered. _The Centre was hell. It only got more hellish. _He looked back toward her. Losing Kyle. Watching his mother crying from the car. Finding his father only to lose him again. His sister. Alex. All of those memories swirled in his head. _If I really came out of The Centre now. _Not saying anything . . . he slid her a cookie. It was tough now, sure, but it wouldn't be tough forever. Thanks to her. She would never understand exactly how much she just did for him. Ever. "Eat."

"Didn't you used to pretend to be a dentist?" Still, she took the cookie. "For the road ahead. It's gonna be a bumpy one."

_You've no idea yet, Parker._

* * *

While they ate and it went well, they couldn't stay forever. There was a curfew in that town and they were under age. If they were caught, it wouldn't take long for The Centre to find and get them. As soon as they knew they were missing, they would be searching.

Jarod hated to do it, but he slid down into an alleyway. "Until we get a hold of Sydney, we need to watch out for each other," he insisted. He bent down onto the ground. He patted his side, getting Miss Parker to sit down. "You get some rest for now. I bet you're the most exhausted. Later if we still can't get Sydney, I'll rest during the day. Don't make much noise, just grab my hand. I promise I'll wake up alert."

He watched her lean back but not really go to sleep yet. A part of him abhorred having to ask Sydney for as much help as they needed. When he first broke out though, it wasn't so easy. He was physically fit and in his thirties though. He couldn't trust Sydney and he had to make it on his own last time.

Now? Baby soft was the right word, Jarod was still a kid. He didn't have the same kind of strength he had in the future, and he was underage with no fake identities. They just shouldn't be out there on their own without some kind of help. Miss Parker and the rest of his hunters probably never knew what it was like when he first escaped. He didn't magically have all the ID's in the world, nor did he have cultural knowledge. It wasn't easy, and not something he wanted to go through again. Sydney had to help this time.

In his mind, he tried to reason which technologies he should explain the future had, the politics, the events that shaped America up until 2019. Which would be the most believable to Sydney? Historical tracing or technological advancement? How would he make him believe?

Miss Parker groaned lightly. "I feel like I'm on Gilligan's Island," she said. "I should have been toast when the boat ride went bad, not ended up spending my days surviving out with freaks. No offense."

Only from her would that be genuine. "Not the simple three hour tour you were looking for?"

"I was just supposed to remember this day," she complained one more time. "Then got up and went to my cozy bed afterward." She scrunched herself up tighter. "This isn't my cozy bed."

Jarod reached his hand out around her. Partly to try and be comforting. Partly to warm up himself. They had no coats, and neither of them were dressed for the heavy wear they should have for winter nights. If only he had a cell phone he could keep trying to reach Sydney with it. "Merry Christmas, Miss Parker."

"That was over a week ago," she said as she shivered. "Christmas spirit is now bah humbug shivers. I'm a moron for doing this, just say it."

"Nah." He tried to make her feel better. "Y-you did the right thing," Jarod said. "As much as I don't like it right now, I get a second chance on everything. I mean? I'll even get a chance to meet my mom." That would be amazing. His mom. Oh and? "I could save Kyle." He would never have to die, he could reach him long beforehand. "In fact? All the simulations." He smiled. "So many were never performed. So many will be able to live. I could stop things before they start, before people lose others or bad things happen!" Oh, he wanted pen and paper now! "Uh? Surgery went bad. The boy couldn't walk anymore. I? She doesn't have to be . . . and he doesn't . . ." Possibilities hit Jarod left and right. So many dates, so many things. "I could make a real difference, in a lot of lives. Later on. If I can keep them all straight."

"Sure." Still not happy. "Being a good Samaritan sucks. I _only_ did it because momma wanted me to. It was the last thing I could do for her." She sighed and leaned against the wall more, scrunching down even tighter. "I left my warm bed and shelter, and I left Daddy. I left _everything_ for this."

If she had known exactly what would happen, Miss Parker never would have done it. Maybe. It was hard to say. She wasn't pleased with her life in the future. She admitted as much right before she was supposed to die, staying behind. "No more talking," Jarod commanded. "It's not helping things. What's done is done. We just have to deal with it. Now get some sleep."

"You have assigned bed times," Miss Parker said. "A lights out schedule at The Centre. I should be the one staying up."

"I've run simulations where I have needed little sleep," Jarod said. "This isn't anything. Go to sleep."

"I'm not being nice or anything," Miss Parker said to him, trying to curl up more. "It's too cold to sleep. We should keep trying Sydney. He's always eventually there. He has no real life."

"It's past curfew and we can't keep staying by the payphone. People will start watching us," Jarod warned her. "We are easy targets."

"I'll stay here then."

"By yourself?"

"I kn-know how to fight, Jarod. This isn't going to be perfect no m-matter what we do, but if we have a chance to reach Sydney, we have to." She was shivering.

She could act tough all she wanted, but Jarod's current body had been hardened for sleep in all temperatures. He could rest if he needed to right now. She couldn't. Not back then. "I'll be able to see you if you lean forward. So, at least have your hand out." He gave it another go.

Once he headed away, he watched her lean forward slightly. He made sure he could see something of hers. _Her hand. _He moved to the payphone. _Come on, __Sydney__. I actually need you right now._

As he grew older, he tended to need Sydney less and less for his life problems. He went to see him as a friend, as someone to share his time to. He wasn't overly visited, or ignored. A nice medium he felt.

But now? It wasn't a 'it would be nice to see or talk to Sydney' moment. He needed his help. Life wouldn't magically get better when Sydney understood and got to them, but he could help pull them through a little easier in the hard times.

Like getting shelter in the middle of winter would be a great start. "Come on, Sydney." He glanced out of his corner to see someone in the shadows. That person could be standing there because he was waiting for someone, he was cold and out of luck for shelter, or he was planning on doing something. Jarod had no idea, and if he did try something, he was no match for him at his current weight, height or muscle mass. _Sitting ducklings. This is bad._

He looked back toward Miss Parker. He could still see her hand.

"This is Sydney."

"Sydney!" Yes, success. "Sydney. I have just concluded an interesting fact for you. Time Travel is possible, and Miss Parker can do it."

* * *

**Miss Parker Remembers: The original time of the 90's and going back in time to 1973.**

**Jarod: ****The original time of the 90's and going back in time to 1973.**

**Broots: Not Here Yet**


	4. Making Sydney Believe

**Sydney's Car**

_Warm._ That was all Miss Parker concentrated on when Sydney pulled up and had them get in his car. The whole time the two seemed to banter in their own smart language like they always did. She didn't interrupt until she heard the scolding address to her.

"This was insane, Miss Parker!" Sydney warned her. "It's reasonably clear that you are responsible for all of this, Young Lady!"

She shrugged. "Cry me a river." Like she didn't feel enough punishment already.

"She never changes," Jarod said from the front seat. "The video explains why you never called me though, Parker."

She leaned her head back on the seat. "Are you kidding me, Jarod?_ You_ sent a parting gift with an untraceable phone to The Centre to me, didn't you?"

"Centre finally gave up on me," Jarod teased her. "It was a little Keurig, with a reminding note of how many coffees you statistically had to have had to stay up those sleepless nights when you chased me. Along with the phone." He shrugged. "But that versus this? You win best surprise by a landslide, Parker."

"This isn't funny, Jarod," Sydney warned him. "None of this is funny!"

Oops. Sydney didn't understand his humor or the future. "Sorry. Sydney, I'm going to need to make fake ID's. Some supplies and some shelter for her and me for a little while. The Centre is going to be looking for us."

"But, The Centre won't kill," Sydney said. "You should go back to your father, Miss Parker. He will be merciless, but he won't let you be killed."

"You don't understand, he isn't in control," Jarod warned him. "He won't have a choice. I'm a lot more important than you think, Sydney. I'm even mentioned in scrolls." He looked back toward Miss Parker. "Considering your power, maybe you were too?"

"I don't have super powers. I just concentrated on a video too hard," Miss Parker reasoned.

"I." Sydney watched the traffic ahead. "I don't know what to say. After hearing everything, it all seems? Out of my league," he confessed. "I. I didn't know Jarod was taken from his family. I don't even know whether to commend you or criticize you for this, Little Miss Parker. On one hand, you _were_ saving Jarod. You stopped several simulations that would lead to unfortunate deaths and thousands will live because of you apparently. On the other hand? You were willing to sacrifice yourself to do this! The average person can't just escape The Centre. Even considering your father, it was a terrible idea."

Miss Parker rubbed her neck. He didn't have to put that much thought into it. "It was momma's unfinished business. Saving all the children. I had to for her."

"It doesn't matter," Jarod said taking the spotlight off of her. "We need some kind of plan, and we needed to get out of the cold to think. We did eat though."

"Good," Sydney insisted. "You had better keep your strength up and your senses alerted, Jarod. This situation is unprecedented. I wish I could help you more."

"The Centre will just execute you, or you'll have to run forever," Jarod said. "I hate to say this, but I'm going to need you to stay there. Over the years, I know what they plan on doing. I can give you a heads up when things start to happen."

"Ha," Miss Parker said, pointing at Jarod. "Do you let The Centre get away with everything, or do you stop your clone from ever being born? There's a different kind of question for you."

Ooh. "Project Gemini." Well. "It's . . . hard to think of that. You just changed the world, Miss Parker," Jarod said. "People who didn't die in my simulations will live. They'll go on and have kids that were never born."

"Or they'll go on and some of them will kill other people that were supposed to live," Miss Parker said. "Not everyone out there is good. 'Bobby' kills his best friend and frames his dad later. We going to worry about that? Plus, not every simulation was bad. It was just whoever paid the most."

"Okay, okay." Sydney tried to stop them. "Living and dying is a constant in the universe, children. If you play guessing games, you'll always lose. We'll just see what happens as time moves by." He gripped his steering wheel harder. "You want me to stay at The Centre?"

"It's smart," Miss Parker chimed in. "They'll kill you if you leave, Sydney. They'll think you know something. The Centre doesn't have a problem with killing."

"Oh." Sydney sighed briefly. "I wish I could believe those were just your child fantasies. That all of this is just children talking. But. It's."

"Not," Jarod finished for him. "It's not. I can help you later, Sydney, but if you are there you can put a stop to some of the things they are doing. Just don't get over your head. Miss Parker should have left you a complete list of the children that were kidnapped. You can get them home."

"I will do what I can." Sydney looked back toward her. "Now, you Little Miss Parker. Where should we put you at?"

"Good question." She didn't know. It was supposed to be a suicide mission. Until they figured out how to get out, if they figured out how to get out, where would she go?

"Raines would know anyone she'd go to," Jarod said to Sydney. "Even if Mister Parker didn't cooperate, he would tell. She should stay with me for now."

"And you will stay where?" Sydney's voice was only getting harder the more they talked.

"Everywhere," Jarod said. "I already told you that, Sydney."

"Okay, that's it." Sydney stopped on the side of the road and undid his seat belt. Miss Parker watched Jarod undo his. This wasn't going to be pretty. Miss Parker heard the commotion from behind her.

**"You are still young, Jarod, and you want to try living out here on your own? This is not the same as whatever happened in your 'supposed' future!"**

**"It wasn't 'supposed', it was my future, Sydney! You can't deny all the evidence I gave you no matter how much you want to! How would I know everything that I know any other way? You kept me locked up in there for years, there's no way I could!"**

**"You can't be out here on the streets, trying to fake your way through! And trying to take care of Little Miss Parker on top of that?! It will not happen, young man!"**

**"I am a grown man trapped in this body, Sydney, there's a difference!" Jarod argued back with him. "I'm not a little 'yes sir, no sir' boy anymore, no matter how I look on the outside!"**

Wow. They were both putting up a fight. Young Jarod hardly fought as much with Sydney that she knew of, and Sydney couldn't get a hundred percent behind Jarod no matter what proof he gave him. She understood that. Time Travel was hard to believe.

**"Forget it! Somehow, we'll find you each another family to take care of you. That's the best you can hope for, Jarod."**

**"I don't want another family, Sydney, I have one and I am getting back to them!"**

**"Someone in the meantime, Jarod." Sydney was trying to hold his anger back, but it was still sliding through. "You're too young to be out there alone! Both of you! You are children!"**

**"She sacrificed her past happiness for _my_ future happiness, Sydney! People I couldn't save, I will be able to! I have been dying to get hold of a pen and pencil so I can write down as much as possible just in case I do forget. So many people who were hurt or killed can be saved, and it's because of her! I can even get my own brothers out. I can do so much, Sydney. I won't let you stop me, and I won't let you hole her up to someone I don't trust or know!"**

Oh. _Strong words. _Jarod hadn't phrased it like that yet. She wasn't the dirty witch that left him at The Centre and chased him down anymore. She was someone he felt he needed to protect now. She didn't know how to take that.

Yeah she did. With some strong bourbon.

**"I know and trust people, Jarod. You know and trust me. That should be good enough."**

**"Like you know and trusted Raines? There's no one in the future that you trust in The Centre besides Broots and Miss Parker."**

**"I don't know who this Broots is, but there are several others."**

**"No, Sydney! Don't. Tell. Anyone. I mean it. You'll never see either of us again if you tell anyone about this."**

**"Jarod, you're thirteen!"**

**"Fourteen actually, I know my birth date. Now, resources, Sydney. A few resources, and we are covered. I'll make sure we are okay."**

**"This is a terrible idea. Terrible. Terrible! I can't approve of this!"**

**"You either deal with it, or you deal with The Centre. Even Miss Parker gave you the proof you need to see how dirty it is. It's the truth."**

**"You, as you are, believe that you can take care of her? Jarod. Fine, I will find someone you _approve_ of to help take care of her. At the very least."**

**"No. I can't just trust she'll be fine because someone has a spiffy background or good introduction. I _have _to place her or take care of her. Not you. That's final, Sydney. Now are you going to keep yelling at me or are you going to help us?"**

**" . . . what will you need?"**

The conversation got lighter, Miss Parker couldn't hear anymore. This time Jarod sat in the back with Miss Parker instead of up front with Sydney. Sydney didn't say anything else as he continued to drive.

Jarod however whispered in his ear. "I don't know if we can stay long with him."

As hard as it was to hear, she knew Jarod was right.

There could be trouble in paradise.

* * *

**Sydney****'s Home.**

Miss Parker closed her eyes, trying to visualize the time she was from. Since it was so close in her memories, she thought that might work. It wasn't though, it wasn't working. _Concentrate. You heard momma's words thousands of times on that video. _Try. Try. Try.

"Don't!"

Miss Parker heard a rush of papers land next to her and a hand slap down. Jarod? "What?"

"Don't, don't yet." Jarod waved the papers at her. "Just, wait. Give me a week, okay?"

Whoah. "I don't know if I can, Jarod," she revealed. "I'm just trying."

"Don't," Jarod said again.

"I did what momma wanted, if I can go back to where I belong-"

"Just not yet," Jarod said, correcting himself better. "Let me write down everything I can, to warn myself. Let me save my brothers. Our brother, Ethan?" Jarod reminded her. "We could save everyone so much pain. Kyle." He was quiet. Thoughtful. "He doesn't have to die by Lyle's hand, he can live, with me and my family. I just? I just want to get my whole family together, Parker. That's it."

Oh. That's what he meant.

"If I can just save _them_, then my future mind can go," Jarod said. "I'm sure. Not having all those memories . . . I'll be happier. Just. Wait."

Miss Parker rubbed her eye. "Jarod. I can't even guarantee, at all, that I can ever get back. That's why I said we are stuck, because I don't . . . know. I don't know." She only did it once. She would have to do it without her mother's help. She would have the words in her head, but she couldn't outright hear her. She didn't know which day to outwardly pick. What time. What year. "You shouldn't be thinking what if I do." She looked down at her little hands. "You should be thinking, what if I don't."

Jarod was a little quieter as he heard Sydney come back there toward them.

"This is the very back of my house," he explained. "Hardly anyone visits." He was semi-quiet. "I will find some kind of clothing for you. Just, stay back here until things get sorted. If anyone does visit, I never shut this back area. It's always dark. It'll look strange if I do."

"Got it, Sydney," Jarod said. "Convinced ye-"

"Yes!" Sydney practically grinded his teeth.

Miss Parker looked between the two of them. What did Jarod say? What could have finally convinced Sydney of time . . . "Oh. Nicholas." His eyes flashed in her direction. "Well, don't blame me. I wasn't the one screwing around, was I?"

"I can't stay at The Centre, Jarod," Sydney told him. "I . . . I'll figure out something. For now you children need to stay back here."

"Well this 'child' is doing the best she can." Miss Parker leaned her head back. She heard Jarod nearing her again. "I'm not doing anything yet." She looked back to Sydney. "You alright?"

"I have a two year old son I didn't know about. No, I'm not feeling alright!" Sydney left toward the front.

"Maybe not such a good idea," Miss Parker warned Jarod. "Touchy ground, Jarod."

"He needed to believe us, he deserved to know, and Nicholas deserved to know too," Jarod said.

"If he leaves The Centre and goes after him, then he's not going to want a thing to do with us. The Centre will want us." She had to remember how to get out of there.

"He'll wait for my family. I already talked about it with him," Jarod said. "While you were in here trying to go back on me."

"Far from the mark," she said miserably. "I need a cigarette."

"Too young," Jarod reminded her.

"I need a sucker."

Jarod chuckled. "Hated her soooo much, yet . . ."

"Brigitte sucked on any and all lollipops, I had a private vintage." She heard Jarod laugh. "Shut. Up."

"Trying to become a grown up by having_ something_ in there." Jarod looked to where Sydney left. "It's going to be really different when we get back." He looked toward her again. "Can you kind of . . . sense when you get closer?"

Honestly? "When I got closer, I could . . . the world was there but it was blurry, like someone took their contacts out. Then, it got real crisp and detailed, everything filled in and before I knew it I was here."

"Okay, don't get detailed. Try, but don't get detailed," Jarod agreed. "I guess it might take a little while to get."

If she even could.

"Sydney knows about us. He won't let anything happen," Jarod reminded her. He stood up and grabbed the papers. "Everything I can remember." He glanced toward her. "And . . . I'll work on other things too. Just in case. Like you said. If you can't get us back."

* * *

**Miss Parker Remembers: The original time of the 90's and going back in time to 1973.**

**Jarod: ****The original time of the 90's and going back in time to 1973.**

**Broots: Not Here Yet**


	5. Jarod, You Crazy Idiot

**Sydney's Home**

Miss Parker dealt with the covers on the furniture in the back and tried to keep herself busy. With it being the 70's there was no internet or cell phone to dwindle her time away anymore. She tried to watch TV, listen to some music, and even tried drawing. She tried to reminisce, to think of a particular day in the future. To retrace steps back, but she couldn't even get the taste of her bold roasted favorite coffee. Between that, she tried to rest her mind by doing something.

It wasn't something she was used to. The Centre always kept her busy. As for Jarod? He stayed in one room with whatever resources Sydney brought him. She had no idea what he was doing in there but considering his lairs in the future, it could be anything.

She had spent a week there so far. No outside. No looking out the window. Terrible. _At least I'm not cold. _She tried to see the good side but occupying her time with useless activities wasn't her style.

When Sydney asked if he could get her something, she always asked for some smokes and some Maker's Mark. Her drink of choice. He'd always come back with cookies or something. Cookies was _not_ Maker's Mark.

While not the best example (she knew most wouldn't do that for a thirteen year old) the few times she did see Jarod again, it was when he came out and talked to Sydney. Sometimes it was peaceful. At other times, it wasn't. At all.

Then, she heard the door to Jarod's room open lightly. He was holding a suitcase. "Parker." He approached her, opened up the suitcase briefly and gave her something.

She looked at it. The picture was from one of her Centre passes. Sydney got him resources alright.

"Don't abuse it, Parker," Jarod warned her. "Your body is young and developing. You could do a lot of damage to yourself in the long run if you smoke or drink. Second chance for you too."

Ah. That was a sign she was about to get some real freedom. Especially with that ID. A date that barely turned her 18, but 18 nonetheless. Still? "A kid with a perfect ID. Thirteen to eighteen?"

"A lot of people look younger or older than they are, and most aren't going to ask a young woman her age," he answered. "Not with my skills on ID's. So, get a couple pairs of your clothes," he instructed. "Shouldn't need many. We aren't going out on our own permanently, I just need to do something before I can fully trust Sydney." He went over to a window and opened it up.

Miss Parker felt the bitter cold hit her skin even though the window was so far away. "Blizzard conditions, Jarod."

"Yeah." He closed it again. "I thought so. We'll sneak out tomorrow. It should be warmer." He came over to the table she was at, sat down and of course went straight for the cookies. "Need to bake some homemade. Those are real good." He looked toward her again. Oddly. "Parker. I want to talk to you about something. Your gift?"

"My curse," she corrected him.

"Your inner sense. However it is that you made it happen? Any luck with the fuzzy world?"

"I used momma's voice as my guide. I didn't even know what I was doing." That should have been a good enough answer. "I couldn't even taste a trace of my morning coffee."

"I know when it happened, I showed irritation. I didn't really know how to react to being this young again," Jarod said. "I wasn't prepared in the slightest to come out. Last time I escaped, I remembered a lot of hardships, and that was when I was full grown. It was all so fast once it all came back to me. But, I just wanted you to know, if you don't figure it out? It'll be okay. I'll figure out somewhere for you. It won't be as bad as you think. Now that I've had time to work at it," Jarod informed her as he took another cookie. "Even though our age is considerably different, we'll have Sydney as a sort of ally. While he can't help us tremendously without getting caught, his influence alone will make it easier to bear. And? Whether it was done for your mom or not, Parker, this was for me too, so I really do promise. I _will _make sure everything is okay for you."

"Jarod." She hated to say it. "Sydney sounds like he's-"

"Trying to place us. He's scared, he found out about Nicholas, and more news about The Centre. I know. It's a compromise with him, something we are fighting over. It's not going to happen, he doesn't really know who to trust. I am making progress each day with him though. He'll come around and understand."

"You used to place kids out," she said knowingly. "How'd you know who to trust?"

He didn't answer quickly. "I just knew, but I'm not placing you right away." He bit into his cookie. "You are staying right next to me for a little while. We can make this work."

"For how long?"

No answer. Just a bite of a cookie.

No way. She didn't like the look of that. "Look, Jarod, if you want to give some assistance while we are in this mess, fine, but once I get-"

She went to grab another cookie, but he stopped her, holding her arm. Not hard, just with meaning.

"342, 000 people." He let go of her arm. "That's how many people you roughly saved alone by saving me _now_."

Wow. That was a lot more than she thought.

"I don't have all those future simulation DSA's but I know how many sims I did before you changed things, and I know how many people were affected in each one. While some of them hurt one individual, many times it took out more. You can't grasp how much I was responsible for. Everything after today, will never get made." He looked at his cookie. "Remember the little girl, Simone?" Jarod reminded her. "Her parents died, she was sick, and she suffered. I can be there to make sure they all get out instead. A girl in an operation who loses her beauty and confidence. I can make sure it doesn't happen. A thousand other instances." He opened the suitcase again and gave her a batch of papers. "Written by hand, what I could remember. Just in case. I don't know if I'll ever forget so I need to be prepared."

Jarod's memory was impeccable. Time stamped with each event having a small detail. His simulations were used throughout time, some early and some quite late. "Did you write yourself a note how you knew the future?"

"A note, that's funny." Jarod dug into the case again. There was another batch of papers. "I made sure, that no matter what or when, I don't lose track of you or anything here."

Yeesh. "I'm not a treasure," Miss Parker warned him. "I doubt you'll be able to stand me for long. This is really not a good idea." She moved the papers away. "For one, I don't pretend. For two, we aren't exactly bosom buddies."

"I can't be everywhere at once, but I have a chance at being somewhere," he said to her. "All together, you will have helped more than half a million people."

Oh. No. She was getting it now. "I am not a Saint, Jarod, you _know_ that!" Okay, it was bad enough she was a kid again. It was bad enough The Centre was trying to kill her. It was bad enough she had to stick with him for now, but for how long was now? "I don't save the little guys. I don't care about the little guys. This was all a byproduct of doing this for my mother. Not you, and not any of those 300,000 people!"

The bastard just smiled. "You need to come up with a different name. It'll be a dead give away. You can use Miss, but not Parker as a last name. They watch those last names, but not first names."

"I can't stand you for very long, Jarod." She grinded her teeth. "You can't be serious, us sticking together. You'll be ripping out your own teeth within a week."

"Needing at least a month with you, at the shortest end," he finally confessed. "It could be close to Parker," Jarod said, not even getting deeper into the argument now. "It can begin with a P if you want. You could still be Miss P. Penchant. Porter. Pacer. Padberg."

"Padberg? You want me to rename myself Miss Padberg? I will be a witch from hell," she warned him, "if you think that I'm spending a month of my life following you around on pretends as some Miss Padberg! I don't pretend. I'm a normal person. Normal people need stability. Either that, or you should have let me go down the way I wanted to."

"The Centre doesn't give up that easily, and it's good at finding what it wants. They _will _employ the best they can to hunt us down. It doesn't matter if you're with me pretending, or trying to trust a new family. Do you want to keep wondering if The Centre will eventually find you and put a bullet in your head?"

Okay. Fair point. Jarod was almost always two steps ahead, even leaving trails for The Centre to find. When it came to accuracy, he was good.

"You can't use your old identification ever again anyhow. Miss Parker as a name is dead for you now," Jarod said. "At least one month. This whole thing, it involves memories and the brain. This might leave a sort of . . . scarring? I need to see how this memory thing works out, and then I'll place you safely away, and then I'll go after my family."

Ah. "This is for a mind check. To make sure we don't go insane. For a month."

"A month at least," Jarod said. "Shoot for a month. If everything's fine, then I can get you into an assortment of good places. After that I'll bring my brothers back to my parents with me." He scratched the back of his head. "I helped you recover what happened to your mother during the hurricane. Remember? I can probably help you find your way back to our real time."

Oh, he just saved that to sweeten the pot. But. She did eventually remember. _Did he help or was that on my own? _The sound of the shutters. Lightning. Wasn't that it? Or did he help and she just didn't remember? _Nothing to lose._

Jarod had two brothers, a sister, him, and his mom and dad. Wow. "Major Charles and Margaret have themselves a full cart waiting to be delivered back at the barn."

That made him crack a smile. Not that that was her intention. "Me. Emily. Ethan. Kyle. Yeah, I guess it would be." He looked down at himself. "That's four kids. In that small area."

"With one that isn't actually a kid," she pointed out to him.

"Yeah. Kyle, he'll be the most in need first," Jarod said already making plans for his family. "We can work with Ethan next, but he's so young right now. Raines can't influence as much. Emily, she should be with my dad and mom." He noticed her look. "When it's safer, I _promise_ you can get to know Ethan too. I wrote it down, extra vividly. I know he's your brother as well."

That's better. "Too bad you never asked 'hey, where were you past Christmas in 1970 something," Miss Parker said. She noticed that look. "Did you?"

"Oh. Oh, a lot of kids is what you meant by a barn."

"What else would I mean? Oh, wait." She held her hand up. "Are they living in a barn?"

Jarod clearly tried to counter her thinking. "Seventy something? Don't you know the year? You are the one who brought us here."

"I remembered the dull party, and my age," she defended herself.

"Do you want to know the year?"

"I don't give a rat's ass which year it is. 73. 74. Wake me up when we have Apple so I can buy stock." For some reason, her off putting remark also made him smile. "Quit it. That was a put down. The correct response was to get pissy or frown."

"I just can't frown." Jarod folded his arms over the table and stared ahead. "It's like a dream. Like I really shouldn't be here, I shouldn't be getting this chance. Even a week later. It's like you really were . . . " He looked at her, this time with an odd look.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Weird look. "Stop that." Too endearing. "Jarod, knock it off."

As much as Miss Parker didn't want to accept it, she saved more lives than people she would ever meet. She gave him more than anyone could ever give him. She might be the toughest woman alive but - _She became the world's angel._ "How about this? Each time I change my name, if I even have to, we just change the last initial of yours? Pretty close to what you're used to. Miss A, Miss B, Miss C, and so on. Then, you won't have to be called Padberg or worry about a last name at all. Easy?"

Yep. He saw compromise in her eyes. It wasn't Parker, but she would be able to go by an address she was a little more comfortable with. "So if you are Smart Ass, then I'm Miss S."

"Or if you're going to be that mean about it, you can just be Miss 'B'." He tried to rack up a little tension with her. It seemed to make her feel more at ease with him.

"I have no idea why Sydney keeps bringing these kinds of cookies. Fruit would be better." Perfect, change of subject. For her it meant yes, she gave into the demand without saying it.

"That'll be great Miss A." Her first designation. "Your default between our dealings."

"I figured Miss B would be the default." She looked out towards the window. "Blizzards turning into rain again. I hate rainy nights."

"They aren't so bad, when you have someone here to keep you company." Jarod tried to play friendly and mean with her. When he was too friendly, she got twice as mean and defensive. She wasn't used to hearing good things about herself.

Even Thomas Gates had to work hard on that. She finally opened up to him. Someone touched her heart besides her Daddy. They were making such progress. Then The Centre killed him and she clammed up tighter than ever before. While Jarod made some progress on Carthis, it wasn't enough. Not nearly enough. His previous statement about her being Miss B was enough to offset the nice thing he said though.

He got up and headed away to the bathroom. He was all done with everything he could do right now. He just needed to kick back and relax for the night.

So close. He thought his chances were all over in the future. He was doing what he could, but he could never manage to catch up with every sim that went wrong. Even at that age, just too much. He did develop a nice little relationship with his family, but it never became real close. The Centre, always in the background of everyone's mind. His mother too. Oh, his mother. All he ever saw of her, was her crying and far away. Once in a car, and once in a boat. Now, the best he could hope for was to visit her grave.

Not anymore. Everything, written down, a whole new chance. If Miss Parker reversed it, he should be able to live a great life with his parents and his siblings, like a regular fourteen year old. He could grow up with them. Spend years with them. Be much closer to all of them. _She can reverse it. She must be able to. It'll reverse one day, and then it'll be a whole new beginning._

A whole new beginning.

* * *

Miss Parker stopped as she heard the front door. She turned off the lights in the back, and hid behind the couch. Sydney said it would be more obvious he was hiding someone if he closed the doors to the back because he never bothered with it. She crept closer to the edge of the couch as she heard the voice of the visitor.

"Sydney." Her father. She looked into the room slightly, mainly staying hidden. "I need to talk to you."

"Of course, Sir." Sydney had him come in, and true to his word, he didn't shut the back door. Miss Parker heard her father saying how much he missed her, how he damned him and Jarod for getting so close to her, and then came the kicker.

"Sydney, if they find her, they _will_ kill her," he insisted. "I can't let them kill my precious Angel. I have dealt with the loss of Catherine as best as I can, but this is my little girl," he said stronger. "Kill her, you might as well kill me, so I want you to assist us in finding Jarod and my daughter."

"I don't know, Sir." Sydney's voice. "So far, there has been nothing anyone has found on your . . . daughter."

"A group dedicated only to them, they could do it. You could get Jarod back, but I need you to be in it, Sydney! It's not a choice. If not for me, then for Catherine. This is how you can save her. I _need _you to bring Jarod back, but if you find my daughter, do _not_ bring her to The Centre. Bring her to me, I have a safe place for her. Away from The Centre, away from this whole mess she stirred up."

Safety? _Daddy. You don't know who to trust either. _Yet, the tone of Sydney's voice. _You better not, __Sydney__._

"You have someone who would watch her?" Sydney asked curiously. "Who would keep her out of harm's way, someone you personally know?"

"One of the best. Someone Catherine knew," her father said. "Practically family to her. She'd watch her while I get this sorted out."

Miss Parker stopped listening when she heard something behind her. Jarod. He was opening the window as quietly as possible. When he looked in her direction, she got the hint.

She still didn't move. She wanted the name of the person.

"What do you mean sorted out?" Sydney asked in the distance again. "Children. Are. A very precious thing." A little too thick. "Are you sure you can risk anything being sorted out?"

"Right now, she's dead meat," her father said, "but The Centre doesn't work that way. It has its own system, its own checks and balances. While this event turned bad, I can have her do something to make it good. Then she can come back to me."

"But how?" Sydney questioned.

"I will assign her something that would make everyone change their opinion. Once done, it won't even matter who harbored her, she'll be welcomed with open arms," he said. "It's gotta be big, but I_ have_ to save my little girl, Sydney. You just, you don't understand."

"Of course not. I don't_ have_ any children."

"Really shouldn't have told him about Nicholas," she whispered. If Daddy didn't recognize Sydney's anger about his own son he just found out about, then he was real distraught.

Sydney was close to exposing them. He couldn't keep them there forever, but he couldn't kick them out. Even doing something like getting them more clothes wasn't easy. He only managed to pick some up at a yard sale for them, or some extras that were supposed to be destroyed due to aging. The garage sale items barely fit right while The Centre clothes were worn out. She was wearing clothes too small and pinched and Jarod was wearing clothes that were too loose. Neither of them wanted to wear The Centre clothes though.

Getting caught shopping in a department store in the kids section would have been a dead giveaway and online stores were much farther in the future. That was only one difficulty with staying with Sydney.

It was time, they had to make another choice. She looked back at Jarod, seeing him want to say something. Unlike Jarod though, he didn't say anything.

She looked out the window. It was dark outside already, and the rain had turned back to snow, blowing hard. The snowfall on the ground would be up past her ankles, and none of their clothes Sydney managed to get were fit for that kind of weather.

Jarod looked outside briefly before looking back at her. "We won't be out in that snow for long." If they were, they'd freeze to death. "You have to trust me."

Miss Parker hated doing it. She never turned from her father, he had been her world when he was alive. She could run in there into his arms and be safe. She would just be committing atrocities The Centre needed at a much younger age. The . . . innocence Jarod claimed she lost. She always knew what took it. She had to survive The Centre though. It was her home, her family's legacy, and all she'd ever known.

_I didn't even think about it. _She did more than grant her momma's last request, or give Jarod a second chance. All the people The Centre forced her to hurt. All the regrets. They were never . . . she looked back out the window.

As bad as the weather had been. She knew her options. She knew all her options. She knew what her father wanted from her. She knew what The Triumvirate wanted with her. She also knew what her 'Father Raines' wanted from her. None of them were good, with Raines having the best chance of winning out of them all.

Time had ran out and she made her decision. She moved toward the window, Jarod moving to help her out first. When she looked back out, she saw Jarod coming with a small round sled. Probably part of his plan. He handed it to her to carry while he reached back in for his DSA case and his other briefcase too.

Neither of them spoke in the cold. They kept their mouths closed, only Jarod's subtle movements kept them on track. As soon as they got out, Jarod steered them toward the side of the road where the snow was mostly out of the way. It would keep anyone from following them instead of their obvious tracks in the snow.

Miss Parker had no idea where he was dragging her to, just that he was dragging her somewhere. _He promised we wouldn't be out long. _She knew he'd keep that promise somehow. There wasn't anything around there though. Where did he plan on going?

More running, some slips but nothing major broken. Until Jarod finally stopped. He looked back at her. "Follow my lead." He went up someone's sidewalk and knocked on a door.

"Who do you know here?" Miss Parker asked.

"Mister Heat," he said as someone answered the door. "Hi? I'm sorry, ma'am, but it's an emergency?" He pointed out the small sled she'd been carrying. "My sister and I came out to sled, but our ride back home is late. We've been out for awhile and we really need to get back home."

Miss Parker just smiled at the woman. _Jarod you crazy idiot. _He was depending on the kindness of strangers to give them a resting point to heat them up.

The woman who answered nodded and invited them in to use the phone. With landlines there was no way to just hand them a cell on the porch.

"Where are your coats, children?" The woman asked as Jarod dialed a number on the old rotary phone. "You shouldn't have been out there without coats."

"Some bullies came by and stole them," Miss Parker said since Jarod was busy. Lying wasn't new for her. "It's another reason we really needed to get back home." She bought that. Jarod pretended to talk to someone on the phone strangely.

"Hi, Dad. We had no choice but to find another place," Jarod said into the phone. "It wasn't fun out there anymore, or safe. Things weren't going well." He gave it a small delay before he spoke back. "I know, it heated up for a second. I'm glad it didn't stay heated. I hope that's the case, but I can't guarantee it." He looked back to the lady who answered the door. "Those bullies aren't anything to mess with. We'll just get new coats and stay away from this area. No, I don't think me and Miss A were too young to be sledding, I think the right call was made."

Miss Parker knew he was speaking to Sydney. He was calling him from a random house.

"Sister. Don't worry, dad. I'm going to be up by the road's stop sign," Jarod continued. "We'll wait for you. Fifteen minutes? It's a long wait, but we'll be there." Jarod hung up the phone. "Our dad will meet us. He got caught up in stuff."

"Fifteen minutes?" the woman repeated. "You can stay near the front door for a few minutes before you go stand on a corner."

"Thank you, ma'am. It is cold out there," Jarod said as he blew on his fingers. He and Miss Parker waited by the front door a good ten minutes, warming up.

Miss Parker looked toward Jarod. "Is he really coming?"

"Sure he is." Jarod grabbed the front door. "He'll be coming any minute. Let's go wait by the stop sign. Thank you, ma'am."

That little trick worked. They were back out again but their bodies had some time to recover. Although they didn't make much progress with that little stunt, it was clearly just so Jarod could call Sydney and warm up.

When they reached the stop sign, Jarod looked back to her. "He said he did get agitated, but he didn't lose it. He agreed with me that he might have considered it, but he wasn't going to turn you over right then. That would have exposed me too. Still, I want to talk this out more with him. I don't know what your dad would do, and Sydney is just angry about his son right now." Jarod looked at her a few extra seconds. Like he was considering something. He didn't say what he thought though, just pointed out, "Good lie though. I was too busy on the phone to cover. We make a good team."

They moved from the stop sign to go into a separate direction for several blocks. Jarod had them move from house to house, with the same intentions. Slowly talk to Sydney, while still making it sound like their dad was picking them up.

Sometimes the houses were great. At a couple of them, they even tried to give them some hot cocoa or cookies. Others were pointing to other neighbors or saying they didn't have a phone. Without social media to encourage the joining of information as fast, it was less likely these people would be calling and discussing them.

They kept pressing on until they were in a nice little house and Jarod was on the phone once again with Sydney.

"Maybe," Jarod said to him. "That might work, Dad. I know what I'm doing." He looked toward Miss Parker. "We aren't far now from that place. I'll grab sis and we'll meet you there." Jarod hung up, thanked the owner and left back outside with Miss Parker. He didn't address her again until they were passed the house they just telephoned in. "I think we can trust him, Miss Parker."

Sydney convinced him? "Then are we going back to Sydney's?"

"No, I need to talk to him, on the phone without anyone around but you," Jarod said. He pointed ahead. "We are going to that hotel. After I talk to him one on one without interruption, we'll decide on what to do."

They hurried and she slipped. Jarod caught her, but the action made him slip too.

"I can't wait to get out of this weather," Miss Parker said as she tried to hold herself steady to pull herself up. "The few minutes inside are nice, Jarod, but . . ."

"I know, it's not long enough." He managed to get up first and helped her up the rest of the way. "We are almost at permanent heat though. Come on." He picked up his briefcases again and she picked up the sled. When they got to the entrance, Jarod made her ditch the sled.

**Hotel**

"There's no way this will work," Miss Parker said as they entered. "There's no way I look anywhere near eighteen."

"It will. We just look young for our age, that's our Mantra. Just don't look nervous. If anything, treat him like you treat other people that annoy you," Jarod said. "Like? Treat him like you do everyone I guess." He walked up to the front desk. "A room for the night, two beds." He slid out his fake ID and put out the money too. The guy looked closely at the ID, then at Jarod. Then at the ID.

"You're eighteen?" He looked at the card again and then looked at Miss Parker. "How old are you?"

She pulled out her fake ID and showed him. Once again, he was surprised. "You got a problem?" She demanded.

"No." He studied them, and then looked at them. Then, Jarod let out a huge sigh. A real good annoying sigh. He handed their ID's back, took the money and gave them their keys. "Have a nice night."

* * *

**Miss Parker Remembers: The original time of the 90's and going back in time to 1973.**

**Jarod: ****The original time of the 90's and going back in time to 1973.**

**Broots: Not Here Yet**


	6. Sydney Pulls A Whammy

**Hotel**

To get out of that blizzard was great. Jarod looked toward Miss Parker who had stolen the blanket from the second bed and wrapped it around herself. She looked out at the window like she didn't want to go back out there.

She did that at every house they had stopped at. He meant it though, they could finally stay and warm up somewhere. The hotel double checked their identity cards carefully. Miss Parker was right, neither him nor her had fully matured. Jarod wasn't sloppy though, it was as genuine as he could produce. They _had_ to believe they were both 18.

On the other hand their immaturity could work for them too. As long as they didn't show ID to anybody, anyone would assume they were in anything from high school to middle school.

He didn't want to waste too much time though. He and Sydney had to talk this out once and for all. They had both argued about the future a great deal. Compromises. Jarod wanted to get back to his family, but he still wanted to help everyone that was hurt by all the simulations he'd done. He also wanted to be there to start changing events to make sure some people were never hurt. He also wanted to help his family, Kyle and Ethan, to get out of Raines' grasp.

He wanted to do everything, but right now he could do nothing.

Sydney wanted him and Miss Parker to take it easy, he pointed out how the world could never have the same opportunities for an eighteen year old that a thirty year old could have without stunts that would attract The Centre. He also didn't want to stay at The Centre, and he had no idea how exactly he was supposed to save all the children on the lists Miss Parker gave him. Catherine couldn't, how could he? He just wanted to get out, find Michelle, and see his son.

They grappled with each other too much, so Jarod had planned on the different houses to call tactic some time ago, to ensure he could get the truth out of Sydney. That he'd take him seriously because Jarod was already gone with Miss Parker.

Jarod was working out what to do after that. He had his plan, but if Sydney denied to help, he would have to move to his plan b. Just surviving.

He didn't want to just survive though. _Please accept this plan. _He picked up the hotel phone and dialed him up.

"This is Sydney."

"Sydney," Jarod greeted him. "We are out in the next town's hotel. We're safe. Mister Parker was too close for comfort. I followed all the procedures I detailed out to you earlier."

"I'm glad to hear that, Jarod." Jarod heard a soft sigh. "I . . ."

"Just tell me?" Jarod asked. "I know you don't want to. You would rather keep us there to watch us, and keep us safe. But you see _now_, don't you?"

"Yes," Sydney admitted. "I can't . . . even manage to get you proper clothes without arousing suspicion. You didn't take any of The Centre clothes with you?"

"We didn't," Jarod agreed. "We never even wore them."

"They fit well. Worn but well."

"I'd rather wear scraps of stitched up clothing than wear those," Jarod remarked. "Look, I'm sorry. I know it was more trouble to get those but neither me nor Miss A. wore them. Ever."

"Why do you keep calling Miss Parker, Miss A?"

"Compromise," Jarod said. Although he was free to talk to Sydney, he didn't want to talk much about that. "You really helped. Thank you."

"Yes, Jarod. I _want_ to help. Whatever I can do that keeps you kids from being out on the streets with nothing."

Jarod let the phrase 'kids' pass. It was something he'd have to get used to. Kids and children, number one terms he was hearing lately. "I want to find my family, Sydney, and I want Miss Parker to be able to live without checking her back every two seconds. So no placing her. Leave that to me."

"Yes, I remember you wanted that," Sydney said. "but as I warned you before. The mind, is an unexplored area. To do what you wish to do? It's dangerous. Catherine's wishes for everything should be delayed until you know for sure you and her will be fine. If she somehow finds a way to go back to your future, will you have a set of new memories? Will you be clueless and lost in a world you don't know? Even this world, this time. If you are out there and you lose your memories of the future, then . . ."

"Yeah." Jarod knew that. "It's conjecture and I don't know. I have to have faith and hope for the best. For this time? We'll just have to survive for a little while to see. I told her a month. It should be long enough to see how our minds are progressing. I hope."

"Jarod? She's . . . I don't think you comprehend Miss Parker. She can't survive out there. She was raised in the finest of lives, she lived luxuriously, and she is not a Pretender. If you pull her into your life, completely pull her in, she will mess up."

" . . ."

"You know that. I know you don't want to hear it, and we have fought about this, but it is for your safety! You admitted you know where your family is. You should go to them. I will take care of her. I can watch her mind and memories and keep you informed."

"I know the dangers, and I won't give her any information about my family." Jarod stalled. He knew the dangers too. He didn't want to face them though.

"Time changes everything, Jarod. The smallest thing can impact the biggest things. Delaying the chance to go to your family so that you can see if Miss Parker and you will ever regress back is dangerous! What if you both do lose memories, and they are at the same time? Your family would be there to take care of you. You can't take care of Miss Parker, when in the future, she hunted you. Or vice versa!"

"I can't just hand her over!" Jarod exploded on the phone. "I won't."

"Jarod. You said you knew the way to sneak in and out of The Centre in the future. After you and your family are considered safe, you can always come back for her. I will have a better idea of what is going on with her mind. Mister Parker will want me taking care of her, I know he will. As long as I have to stay at The Centre, I will keep track of her."

"She let me go, Sydney," Jarod said. "They won't just let that go."

"Mister Parker has always had his own way of dealing with things. She will be alright, even he seems confident of that. She isn't concerned about even living out there. She is concerned about her mother's work. Use that."

"I." No. "It's appealing, Sydney. I want to go back home now, but I can't. I can't do it, I can't just turn my back on her. One month."

"I hate to say it Jarod and I am sorry, but she is a spoiled brat who has only gotten worse as the days went by! Put her out there, onto the streets, and you will not last long. She will mess up! She will whine. She will scream. She can't handle what you handle, Jarod! You will get yourself caught, and you will lose your chance. It's bad enough you being out there at your age, add her to that and it will be impossible! You know that!"

Jarod was quiet.

"You can't change people," Sydney told him. "She was raised in the comfort of The Centre. She will eventually be back because she cannot be without Mister Parker. She cannot be without the life she has here. You said in the future, she never left The Centre."

"She stopped chasing me."

"She was pulled off of it. There's a difference, and she never left The Centre."

"She tried once."

"And the results of that you said killed someone she loved. That only brought it deeper into her life. As I assume, it may have done to mine. I hope to avoid that as my miserable future." Thinking about his son again. "The Centre is her life. She got you out. She will pay for her mistake however Mister Parker will make it happen, and then she will go on. It is the way it has to be."

Jarod didn't answer.

"2019, Jarod! Forty three years into the future. She never left, even with everything she learned, everything you confided in me, she_ never_ left. Even when her father was gone, correct? That is her life. Mister Parker will not allow harm to befall his daughter. Contrary to what you must think-"

"He loves her," Jarod finished. He knew that. It was a strange sort of love, a hard love, a love that he should have strengthened and that left Miss Parker pining for his affection. But in the end? Mister Parker loved her.

"See for yourself. Tell her what it will take, Jarod. To live out there with you for at least a month."

Jarod heard voices in his head. The whining of her in the future. He imagined the places he went through when he first escaped, and how she'd react.

_"Are you kidding me, Jarod, we are supposed to stay here?! It's only one gigantic room, you've got to be kidding!"_

_"What do you mean there's no heat in this place? Then what are we supposed to do, curl up with a blanket and keep warm like the homeless?"_

_"I can't, I'd rather stay awake all night then sleep in there."_

_"I think I am going to throw up, I cannot trudge through that."_

_"I don't believe this. There's no way I am waitressing in a place that doesn't even have clean floors!"_

_"Don't yell at me, I'm not the one making the pizza, __Moron__!"_

"She did her part, Jarod," Sydney's voice interrupted his thoughts. "Let her go back to the life you know she needs to lead, and I will do what I can for you."

"I." He couldn't. The Centre.

"Get through the rough part you know she can't handle. If you take her, she will expose you. She will get you fired. She will get you kicked out of the simple places you can find shelter. Just? Get out yourself and make your way home. Although you are young, you have great capabilities. I _know_ that. We will get out your brothers and get them home with you. Then, we will retrieve Miss Parker. It will be safer."

Jarod paused for a little while, watching her all curled up, staring outside. Not quite the tall voluptuous female authority she'd been in the future. In all honesty, it was the way he preferred her. Without heels or dressed in black and brooding. Just there. Just a girl, watching snow fall.

"I will stay, at The Centre, until this situation is over. I will find information on your brothers. I will take the risk of getting caught if need be! If you just agree to this, Jarod. She will . . ."

She wouldn't mean to. It wouldn't be her intention, but Sydney was right. She was the princess of The Centre. She lived in a big house, lived luxuriously, never wanting for anything. Wore designer clothes, said what she wanted, and it was hard to get her to say a kind word.

Sydney was worried about her, but he was more worried about Jarod. Jarod understood that now. The whining, the fussing, the yelling, the complaining, and all the frustration. It would be a miracle if they didn't get caught with her. Didn't lose what little support they had. They needed to be grateful for every little thing they could get, and if she blew up? Gone.

The minor job, gone. The little rental, gone. They'd be sitting on a corner in the rain, with her complaining about the box leaking. Because that was Miss Parker. He couldn't change that.

He didn't want to. He never wanted to. "I'll get back to you." He hung up. _Mister Parker loves her and he'll take care of her if she goes directly to him. I'll be back for her, I will. I won't leave her there, but I can't let her attitude get our chances killed before they even start. We'll end up on the streets. Surviving just a few hours with her was tricky enough._

He walked over to her. He had to test it out. "I'm going to be taking a bus out of here," he revealed to her. She turned her head at the mention of the 'I'. "You are going to be meeting your dad and Sydney. I can't take you out on the hard ways I got to go."

She wrapped the blanket around her tighter. "You think you're sending me back to The Centre?"

"Your father will take care of you, as long as you go directly to him," Jarod reasoned. "Sydney will be keeping track of your mind, and once I get into a better spot, I'll come back for you."

"Don't. Bother," She warned him. "I won't come." She sat back down. "Wasted time, you should have just gone up and left me at The Centre when I told you to. Enduring the cold of night, being forced to stay at Sydney's in the back for days, and now traipsing through the snow." She glared at him. "Waste of time."

"Well, there's no guarantee your Daddy would have found you first." Still, he could hear it right there. They were barely at their first shared hotel room and already this was what she was like. _People do change, __Sydney__. But some are more stuck in their ways and don't want to._

He was intent to get back to the phone and ring up Sydney again. One ticket. He was almost there, almost made the full circle with his finger around the phone, when she interrupted-

"I won't go back," she said. "If you want to go, fine, but I'm not going back."

He took his hand away and hung up the phone. She was that adamant? "Why?"

"None of your business," she said.

Great. _Hard ball. _Was it ever any other way with her? "If you talk to me, really talk to me about it, then maybe I'll let you come. It'll be harder out there on just your own."

"Boy, did Sydney pull a whammy on you," she said instead. "Didn't think he could do that to the great Pretender."

What? "He didn't pull a whammy on me."

"Then how do you go from calling me Parker, to not even calling me Miss P." She noticed it. "You wanted to even get rid of the reminder in _my_ name, but now you want Sydney to hand deliver me back. Why?"

Okay. That was fair. "You complain," Jarod admitted. "You do more than complain, you whine and *****."

"Yeah? This isn't headline news."

"That kind of attitude isn't going to fly out in the streets of where we're going," Jarod assured her. "You coming, it's just going to make it harder."

"Gee, I think I'm the one who said those exact words when someone was pulling me up some stairs!"

"No, no. Taking care of two people is tough. Taking care of someone who can't be nice is going to be impossible," Jarod said. He sighed. "Look, after things get easier, I promise I will come back for you. I won't leave you in The Centre, not for everything you just did for me."

Her eyes became more slitted, and with a raised eyebrow. "Like I said, don't bother. I won't be there. I got too caught up." She sat back down to watch the snow. "So take your little bus and I'll find my own way."

"Like I said before, just tell me why you won't go back?" He moved a little closer. "Is it because of your birthday?" He was rewarded with a thick glare. "I won't let anyone get hurt on your birthday."

"What do you know about _my_ birthday?" Still thick. Still judging.

"I know that you got terrible over time at The Centre. The older you got, the worse you became." He looked toward his briefcase a second, before looking at her. "But it was after you turned fourteen that even I had to use the word for what _you_ became."

She looked away again.

"How'd . . ." The one thing he never knew. The one thing he never found any data on. He saw the procedure. He knew what day it happened. The details were sketchy at best though, just a recording of data. Nothing personal. As much as she loved her Daddy, Jarod never bought it was that love alone that made her pull the trigger.

Not her. Not alone. They did something to make her pull the trigger so young. To corrupt her so young. "I'll be waiting for the bus tickets." She glanced at him, catching the plural this time. "Tell me what you know I want to know, and I'll take you with me. Don't? We are strangers on the bus and you can find your own way."

* * *

_"You can do this, Angel. I know you are young, but the sooner you get the jitters over, the better off you'll be. You'll be tougher. You'll be as strong as me."_

_Miss Parker looked at the memo written for her. "I . . ." She shook her head. "I can't."_

_"I know you're a tough girl," her father said harder. "You can do this. You have to!" He banged his hand on the table. "Innocent people will die. You know what's at stake."_

_"I-I know, Daddy." She started to cry. "There are a lot of other people who could do this. I haven't even graduated yet. It's even my birthday."_

_"Look! Every Parker in The Centre has to do it, and if you are going to rise at The Centre? Then you can't be someone who isn't willing to do what's necessary! We're Parkers! Parkers do what is necessary. On your birthday, you will ascend to greatness. That's how Parkers work."_

_"I. I can't."_

_"You will! I know you will." He sat back down in his chair. "You know what will happen if you don't? Then the people that they hurt? Hm? It's on you."_

_"I don't even know how to track him. I can't. Think." She couldn't. How could she? She knew The Centre wasn't the best place in the world, but to send her out there? Now?_

_"You don't have to. You'll go with a full team of sweepers. They'll take care of everything, track the bad man. Hm?" He smiled at her. "He'll be on the ground, can't hurt you, they'll keep him back. All you have to do? Is pull the trigger, Sweetie. Afterwards, they'll take care of the rest."_

_"All you have to do? Is pull the trigger, Sweetie."_

* * *

_Snow. _Pretty death. Stay out in it too long and a person would just die out there. It's cold and it's painful. Yet, so serene on the inside looking out. That was life. Death and beauty.

Jarod wanted to know, but she didn't want to tell him. She watched him come around the corner, the time almost up. She wasn't going back to The Centre, she saw something she wanted herself now. She saw a possible way out.

Easy? No. Doable? Yes. Even Jarod, as much as he bothered her sometimes. He was a damn Pretender, she would have a much better chance being out there with his help.

Sydney got to his head though, and now she'd have to reverse some of that backwards thinking. If she wanted to survive long enough to take her own second chance. She heard him coming back over with the tickets. "You know who it was? My first kill?"

He looked at the tickets. "Yeah." He held her ticket out.

"I was credited for it," she revealed. "I didn't kill _them_. Just credited," she admitted. "I refused to kill the bad man I was supposed to kill. I refused to send a Sweeper Team. It was _my_ call, and I didn't make it. Little Miss Parker, couldn't say 'let's go'." She snatched her ticket. "So the people they did kill, are credited for my first kills. Because I didn't kill _him_." She glanced at Jarod. "Ever been the mystery person at a funeral, Jarod? Knowing good people were dead because you didn't take action? I sat through the whole thing, of each family member." She pointed out. "Each one. Each event. Even a memorial party, I was driven and forced to attend. So after that? It wasn't so hard. The Centre doesn't work with Angels. It just sends one to get a job done now." She stood up.

He was speechless as she walked around him. "It's time, right, Boy Genius? Let's go."

* * *

He didn't say a word to her as they left, into the snow again. The station wasn't far. Jarod knew where he'd been going. He knew which hotel to pick. As they arrived and they gave their tickets, they got on the bus.

Miss Parker was dead silent. She just looked out the window again. It was something she did. When things got bad, even as a young girl, she turned to looking out windows.

Jarod wanted to say something cheery. Something good. But all he could think of to say when he finally shared a word was- "Second chance."

"True," she said. "I could kill the right person now and save that whole family if I cared to."

"No," Jarod insisted. "When the time comes, I will help you, and we won't do that. Unless we have to," he said. "And if we do, it won't be you doing it."

She turned her head to look at him. "Oh, come on. Spare me something here. You get way too hung up on the cute little girl I still look like on the outside." She pointed to her face. "You keep forgetting the ***** on the inside. You know? The one that's going to blow your covers?"

"It doesn't matter, I'm going to help you," Jarod insisted. "You don't see it."

"See what?" she said dully.

"You're getting blinded again, and I can see why. But _every_ tragedy in your life hasn't been a coincidence. Why did he care to kill an innocent family, Miss A?"

She glanced back at him only a second as her face went full wide again. Truth hit her like a brick. "The Centre took them out themselves?"

"Evil man. Good family. Full team support with only one pull of a trigger. He's going to die anyway, right? It's just the bullet from your gun and not someone else's." He leaned in closer. "They eased you into it, and when you didn't bend, they cracked you. They killed that innocent family. Not you."

She was still. Her face couldn't be read, not even by him, like she was coming to grips with what he was saying.

"At such a young age too. They've been working on it, even now, at this age. Before you killed. They were working on getting you prepared. I sensed the change in the little girl I knew." He sighed. _It was worse than I thought. If she gets caught now, it'll be even worse than that. Mister Parker nothing, he was the one ordering her! _His strange love was not the kind she needed. No. _Never. She'll never be forced into it again, I swear it! I don't care if she does ruin everything. I can't leave her there even one more day._

He wasn't just going to keep her from her first kill. He would keep her from every kill afterward. It didn't happen. A life away from The Centre, after she figured out how to get back, a life of memories away from there. _She'll be the person she was supposed to be._

He hadn't planned on bringing it out so early, but when he asked for resources for Sydney, he wanted their information too. He opened his briefcase lightly and picked up the pictures on top. He sat them in her lap. "A young boy, 12. A wife, 38. A husband, 54. A young girl, 14. Same age as you when you had to do it."

She picked up the pictures and looked at what he wrote on the back. "They are already in The Centre's sights? The husband is showing signs of leaving The Centre. It's classified why." She dwelled on the looks in the photos lightly and then gave them back to Jarod. "Fine, okay. You can help me, happy?"

Jarod put the other pictures back, but held up the 14 year old's picture. "She is. So is someone else I know that'll be that age one day." He put the last picture back. "Hell of a way to spend a birthday."

"Okay, we're going to save them, what else am I supposed to say?" She complained at first. Then a few seconds later. "Thank you."

It'd be rough. It'd be really rough. In his time when he was trying to help his old friend, Argyle? Oh, when _that _guy had a problem? Never turned out well because Argyle was there. Argyle always said something or did something that made it worse. She would make_ that_ seem like nothing. Yet? "We'll stay together," he decided.

"Wha? You want me to tag along again?" She groaned.

"Yes." For certain. "I promise I won't change my mind. I don't break promises that I can keep," he reminded her.

She didn't answer back for about a block on the bus. "Just let me know," she said gruffly. "Just because I lived a nicer life than most doesn't mean I was allowed to speak my mind all the time." She pursed her lips lightly. "Just say behave yourself or make a good impression or don't embarrass me when you know I shouldn't say anything or I have to be a people person. I just need a small warning. When the coast is clear and I can be myself again just say . . . it's all over now."

**_"Behave yourself, Angel."_**

**_"Make a good impression, Angel."_**

**_"It's all over now, Little Miss Parker."_**

**_"It's all over now, Angel. Daddy's here."_**

_Trigger words. _Jarod had heard those words to her. Just like the word refuge with Sydney. _She was right, __Sydney__ did pull a whammy on me! _It wasn't his fault, this Sydney didn't understand her. The future Sydney, he'd gotten a chance to know her better. This one, he knew her as the daughter of Catherine Parker only. He didn't know her well as a friend at that age at all. Behave yourself or 'make a good impression' came from Mister Parker. He said it almost whenever anyone walked into the room. Keeping her at bay. It was her mother, Catherine, that mostly used 'It's all over now'. He'd heard it a couple of times from Mister Parker, but never saw the association.

Her mouth ran before she thought anything out, that was her. Jarod smirked. All she needed was a pre-emptive warning.

He did have something after all.

* * *

**Miss Parker Remembers: The original time of the 90's and going back in time to 1973.**

**Jarod: ****The original time of the 90's and going back in time to 1973.**

**Broots: Not Here Yet**


	7. Only One Place For Her

**Aberdeen**

"It's not going to be like a hotel suite," Jarod warned her as he held their home key.

"Two fake eighteen year olds renting something with very little to their name." She looked at the sides of the place. "I'm not expecting the Taj Mahal." Still, she kept her cool so far.

Jarod turned the key and went in. Well? "We can buy some chairs." He looked to the side. "And a bed." He looked back to her. "At least it has a heater."

Miss Parker walked into the middle of the room. She walked from the left to the right, and up and down. She opened the only closet and looked in. "Sydney did help, right?"

"We moved fast?" Jarod pointed out. "When someone needs someone to move in quick . . . overall it seems adequate." He watched her try to close the closet again. It squealed. "We can oil that."

"Yes, oil. Just what we need on a bathroom door." She looked back at him. He expected her to start to complain. "You lied, you said there was nothing ready for us." She moved over toward the kitchen part of their room. "Does this work?"

"Yes." He forgot about that, he did lie to see how she'd react. He looked underneath the cupboards. "Just need to buy some dishes and pots and pans and forks- Did I mention Sydney's covering the rent? We'll have our own money, but we need to use it for other necessities. Clothes that fit for starters."

"Yeah." She looked toward him. "I don't suppose you're trying to beat out the first hackers for a shot in history, are you? I'm all for you stealing money from The Centre now." She held out her thumb. "Just be careful."

"No, no," Jarod said. "Too flashy, they'll find us that way. I need to stay low if I want to get to my parents without leading anyone to them. So, we need to stay in one spot. Nothing wild. We've got jobs arranged for us."

"Yippee." Less than enthused. She blew air out of her mouth. "It's going to take most of the cash we have to even get the basics tonight."

"Yeah, that's why we have the jobs ready," Jarod said. "Sydney pulled some weird strings for this one."

"Promise someone from a local fast food place a comfy spot in The Centre in Delaware in exchange for some favors?" She asked.

"Pretty hard to do in the age of no social media," Jarod reminded her. "Not impossible though. He found a friend of a friend of a friend."

"Are you kidding?" Now she was losing it. "Who does Sydney know to even start up this?"

"Actually, he found a friend of a friend who had a brother, who had a cousin, who had a nephew that had a friend who knew someone that would be interested in something different." Highly careful. "This far down the line, they don't even know how to spell The Centre correctly."

She looked around it briefly. "That guy better end up as a janitor."

"Tends to be a_ little_ safer to hold those jobs there," Jarod admitted, "but it's not foolproof either. I know."

"Sure. I'm sure I was concerned about this person's safety." She turned back around. "Tell me the jobs are at least within walking distance?"

He smiled. "The jobs are within walking distance."

Sleeping bags. On a sketchy floor of a one room rental_. _She couldn't complain too loud. If she did, Jarod would tag her with behaving. She also knew that had he decided not to waste his time with her, she'd be in a worse position. On the streets alone.

She wished she could go back. Her Daddy had been there at Sydney's. He would have picked her up at the hotel. She would have one hell of a mess to answer to, but he'd save her life in the process of making it good again. The thing is? Daddy didn't know who to trust. Eventually, she knew where she would end up. It was worse than any streets out there. To her, it was worse than death. As soon as he turned his back . . .

"Try to get some sleep." Jarod interrupted her thoughts. "I know this isn't half as comfortable as Sydney's floor, but you need to rest. We'll get an actual bed tomorrow, and stuff to cook food too. Just? Think of it as an adventure."

When she didn't complain, Jarod tried to be a little extra nice to her. Something, once again, she didn't know if she liked.

**One Month Later**

"Name a country," Jarod said as he stood over their stove. "Unless you prefer to try your own cooking skills?"

"I only make greasy pizzas," she said. "From that damn job. It's better than being out front. I wanted to tell that woman that went back and tried to change her order how she'd feel about little red shoes up her rear end." She leaned against the stove. "Hell. Is that a country?"

"There is a town called Hell, but I don't think that's what we want." Jarod pulled out some basic meat. "Not feeling it tonight? How about hamburgers?"

"Homemade hamburgers beats out the fast food crap I've been-"

"Behave yourself," Jarod said.

She stopped talking. "We're not even in public, now you're abusing privilege." She crossed her arms. "Yes, hamburgers will be fine."

"Good. It's all over now." He started to cook hamburgers while she went over and rested on the couch. "It's getting closer to the end of our journey together. So far our minds did well. Looks like placing you shouldn't be too hard. So, will you miss this?"

"I'll have trouble sleeping at nights daydreaming about these days," she said sarcastically. It wasn't the finest couch, but nothing was the finest. When someone wants to get rid of something though, they make good deals. It was the same way they got the bed. Well, mattress. They could have gotten two beds that had the mattresses collapsed in it, or they could just get one mattress that was still in decent shape. They forewent the bed and just got the mattress for now. They each had separate blankets and pillows.

As long as they could rest well. Which she didn't even know she was doing until she smelled hamburgers and opened her eyes. "Food."

"Good food." He gave her the plate while he sat down with his. "I know the inner sense traveling is still disappointing. You'll get there." He bit into his sandwich when they heard their telephone ring. Jarod put the food down and went to answer it while she finished eating.

She waited to see how the conversation would go. _Even when he fixes basic food it still tastes so good. _While she ate she watched Jarod's expression change as he talked to Sydney. What was that about? "Jarod?"

He let go of the phone, crouched to the ground, terrified, like he was in shock.

"Jarod?" She put her food down and rushed over. He looked terrible. "Jarod, are you okay? It's me, Miss Parker. Jarod?" She checked his temperature. He was okay, but he was sweating like he was trapped in a nightmare.

He looked at her, but it was like he was looking through her. He grabbed onto her for dear life and pulled her closer. He didn't say anything. He was trembling severely. Not what she was used to, but she knew something was going on with him. "It's okay, Jarod. I'm here." Against her usual nature, and knowing he wasn't fully himself, she hugged him back. What was wrong?

"M-Miss Parker?" He hadn't called her that in a month. He met her eye to eye and then looked around himself. He was wiping his eyes. "I'm . . . better? I feel better." He looked at her. "Did you make me better?"

"I doubt it," she said. "I was just eating a hamburger when you freaked out," she admitted. "Are you okay again? What was that?"

He looked around again, like he hadn't seen where they'd been living for the past month. "This isn't The Centre? Where are we?"

_Oh no. _He regressed. Just like Sydney and he hypothesized. Their minds weren't safe. "What do you last remember, Jarod?"

He didn't answer right away at first. " . . . you're not my friend anymore. Why are you here?"

His mind. _Okay, easy. I can't bombard him with too much, too fast. _"It doesn't matter if I'm your friend. I'm here now. So, what do you last remember, Jarod?"

"Racing. Constant. Racing." He scrunched up against her again. "I don't care if you're a friend or not, Miss Parker, just please help me! I just need a little something for the pain. Your dad is Mister Parker, you can get it!"

She was getting an idea of where in his mind he was at, but she wasn't sure. "Who were you last with, Jarod?" She didn't expect him to remember his name, being that out of it. But if he said-

"Someone. Someone was here that wasn't Sydney. Raines, he-"

Yep. _Drugs. _October. 1976. Three more years into the future. She stayed near as his physical sensations that his mind had stirred up again eventually passed. All the while, she held him close. It was terrible what they did. She knew it was no picnic on anyone, especially Jarod.

She didn't talk much, just very lightly as she waited for his mind to catch up. Hopefully it did. If not, they would have to have real long and difficult talks. Jarod theorized it might happen. Both of them mentally remembering 2019 as well as the events of that time, meant there may be mental problems. "Good call, Boy Genius," she admitted to him. "You'll be okay, now."

"If you aren't my friend," he finally spoke again, "then why are you here?"

"I didn't say whether I was your friend or not," Miss Parker said. She was in a bind. "I'm the daughter of Mister Parker, I can't be allowed to be your friend anymore now that I'm growing up. Daddy says so. It doesn't mean . . . I wouldn't come when something happened to you." She was teetering on the truth of that statement. Her father and life, both helped to separate her from him.

She even almost convinced herself of that.

At the time, she didn't know it was happening. Raines stole Jarod for that time. At the time, she wouldn't even understand what she was looking at. _Raines turning Jarod into a junkie, damn him. _What could she say to make him feel better?

Sydney didn't want him knowing about his role, but she understood why. That 'why' wasn't going to factor in anymore. Jarod was already out, and he needed all the support he could get. "I had to come," she decided to say. "Sydney was tricked, Jarod. No one would be here. I had to come." She felt Jarod tighten his grip even tighter on her. "Jarod? I can't breathe very well."

At least he would understand that Sydney was tricked. It didn't give it all away. She couldn't give it all away. There was no telling whether or not he'd come back around to remembering the current time or not. Or how. Or what else. "Do you want a hamburger?"

"I can't eat that," he admitted. "I can only eat-"

"Well, you have my permission. I'm Miss Parker. That's all you need." She helped him get his bearings and then took him back over to the mattress to the hamburger. She sat down. "Sit down and eat."

He sat down. It was always neat to see how Jarod responded to the simplest things she gave him, that she wasn't _supposed_ to give him back then. He definitely needed something too with his mind dwelling in such a bad place.

He took a bite. She could tell he liked it, but his mind was so plagued with questions and it had been in such a terrible mess. "It's good." He sniffed. "I don't know where I am."

"Outside The Centre," she confessed. "I don't know how to explain it. You're going through some brain trauma I guess? We ran away. We live in Aberdeen, far away from Delaware. We've been renting this place for almost a month, and we both work to make it work. Even with that, it's tough, but Sydney pays rent for us."

"Sydney? Pays rent?" He couldn't seem to believe it. "Sydney knows were here?"

"Of course, Jarod. Sydney wants you out of The Centre too. He just couldn't get you out," she answered honestly. "He's leading the search for us, which means they won't get too far." She groaned. "Trust me. He's good at trickery. They'll feel like he genuinely wants to get you, but he doesn't." Experience proved that.

"We're free? Not on camera?" Jarod stood up, looking around. Looking all around. "We're not on camera, there are no cameras." He kept searching. "The Centre would never allow me out or not have cameras." He dwelled in front of the old window. "Outside."

"Yeah," she said. "That's outside. You want to go outside?"

"Yes!" He couldn't say it fast enough as he ran to the front door and opened it up. He stepped out and closed his eyes. She tagged along behind him. "Outside. It's cold."

"It's the cold time of year," she replied to him.

"I like it! I love it." He laughed softly. "I love it, Miss Parker. It's cold. It's not a sim of being cold, or making me cold. It's the natural outside that's making me cold. I'm outside."

"Yeah." She didn't know what else to say. All those years of him outside, away from him being . . . the actual age they were . . . "You want to come back inside?"

"No, I want to stay out here." He trudged outward. "I want to be outside forever."

Oof. "You can be outside, Jarod," she said, "but you need your coat. You shouldn't stay outside forever. If you want, you can hang out by the window later?" She was already starting to freeze, but. "If you really want, I guess we can leave the window open for a little while. But, not into bedtime. It's an okay neighborhood, but we shouldn't push it."

He didn't respond at first. "A coat. Sure, I'll take a coat."

"Don't worry either," she added as she went to fetch his coat. She watched him put it on. "We'll be trudging through it tomorrow again. We have to walk to work."

"We work and we have a little place together?" Jarod was starting to come back around to concentrating again. "How?"

"You made fake ID's," she said softly, just in case someone was listening. "Plus like I said, Sydney's helping."

"I wish I could remember. A whole month on the outside." He shook his head. "I can't remember. But, I'm here now. This is great!" Oh, what a cheery smile he had. "What about my parents? Do we know anything about them? And why are you here too? Why did you run away?"

So many questions. "You know where they are at," she admitted. "It's not safe to see them yet." If this was happening to Jarod, it was bound to happen to her too. "The Centre." It was a lie, but it was the closest she could come to making him understand. "The Centre messed with our heads at some point. I didn't like it. I pulled you out, and I went with you."

"Brain surgery? Brain manipulation?" Jarod asked.

"Just . . . forget," she said softly. She went in and fetched her coat. He followed along back inside, eager to know more of course. "We're okay, medically. It's just, sometimes we forget, I guess."

"When will I remember?" Jarod asked.

"I don't know, Jarod. I hope soon." If she thought living with Jarod was a challenge, she knew she hadn't seen anything yet. This was bad news. _He has to get to his parents. They have to be told about this, and they have to understand. _She was too risky though. If Jarod fell back into believing he should be in The Centre, his parents would be there to comfort him. If _she_ fell back into believing the same thing, she would get them both into trouble.

If he even remembered. How long would he be like this? Was this permanent or not?

"Is that true?" Jarod asked her. "I mean, did your dad really keep you away or are you lying about that?"

Oh, the friend thing again? "Last time we saw each other as 'friends', it was just after Faith," she said. "After that? I just . . ." How could she explain it? "All I had was him now, and I didn't want to disappoint him. I knew what made Daddy happy. Sneaking around The Centre, it wasn't that." She rubbed her shoulders, still feeling the cold from outside since Jarod left the door open. "He barely had warmth, but it was there. I needed something, and I really thought I could get it from him. I just kept trying to be perfect for him."

That's what it came down to. _I remember. I didn't always treat Jarod like a lab rat. He thought I was a friend because . . . _she had been. "I'm not looking for that from him anymore though, Jarod," she finished. "So relax. I don't want to get caught anymore than you do."

"When your mom was gone, you gravitated toward your dad," Jarod said. "It's natural. I'm? I'm just glad that . . ." He looked back outside. "I'm glad we both made it out of there."

She buttoned up her coat and got her scarf, hat and gloves. Night was the chilliest, but he was draining all the warm air out of the house. "If you want to be outside, Jarod, then we'll be outside. We need to close the door though, when you eventually get cold enough you'll want to warm up inside."

She followed him back outside after closing the door. She watched him turn and laugh in fascination in their front yard of basically dirt.

"I haven't seen snow since 1971!" Jarod said joyously. "Just for a little while. Now, I can see it here. For longer." He watched it fall so innocently. Then, that expression changed. He stuck his hands in his pockets like the snow didn't amaze him at all. "We are in deep trouble. Let's go back inside."

When they went back inside, she watched him close the door and take off his coat. "At least it didn't last long, but that's not a good sign." He moved toward the mattress with meaning and sat down. "It's just like Sydney and I suspected."

She knew that was coming. "That's why we took a month off to 'prepare'." She took her gloves off. "I knew that, Jarod. We knew it could happen."

"This isn't good," Jarod said. "If you stay with me any longer-"

"-and I spaz out like you just did, I'll find a phone and call Daddy. Everything will be over," she said knowingly. "I get it, Jarod." It wasn't just that either. "When it happens, I'm going to reach out somehow to someone, and if I don't remember in time?" The end.

Her future was as it was before. "Nice dream. Nice to escape while I could," she said.

"It didn't last long," Jarod said. "Ten minutes or so. Sometimes it may last longer. I don't know." He looked at the mattress. "Same thoughts ran through my head that did in that diner the night it happened. It might be a sign of what's to come. Those flashes."

"Oh just quit it good boy Jarod," she said. "Writings on the wall. It's bound to happen to me too. You need to go home, with your memory all fuzzed up, you _have_ to get to them. They'll keep you safer. Sydney will work with you and your brothers, just get home."

"But no one keeps you safe," he pointed out. "I can't just leave you out here, defenseless, but I can't place you in this condition. I can't explain this to anyone. If it happens to you, your mind will run back to The Centre though! It won't understand anything," Jarod warned her.

"Well, what do you want me to do?" She asked plainly. "I think we get how this works, Jarod. I messed with events, and our head can't carry two times in our heads all the time without . . . consequence." She sighed. "Sacrifices must be made. Momma said that. I thought she meant my life . . . not my head."

"She was trying to warn you without telling you," Jarod said trying to be easy. "There's no choice. I have to immediately place you," he said. "The only place I can think of that will accept this happening to you."

"How?" She asked. "Who do you know from 1973 that would want a little girl traipsing around their home that can't keep their memories straight? Hm?"

**Las Vegas**

Jarod watched her eyes surveying the neighborhood. "I don't know many that would fit," Jarod said as he gestured to a small apartment. "In the future, I didn't meet people more than once. Often," he said to her truthfully. "Except this _one_ guy. I even met him and his dad."

"Your staking me on someone's dad you met?" She looked back at him. "You're kidding, right?"

"No. I knew them. I kept in contact. They are the only people I could contact. The boy over there?" Jarod gestured to a little boy with a bucket of legos he just dumped on his own head. "He knew about The Centre." He was still about the same. Jarod wasn't surprised from the way he was playing. "His dad was really good. I think he'd understand your memory relapse as some sort of PTSD. They are all I can think of."

"Well, what do I do?" she asked him. "I can't just walk up to them and say 'hi, I know somebody you're going to meet in the future. My mind might crack every once in awhile, better keep the guns locked away. Can I stay'?"

"Trust me," Jarod said. "You won't have to do much. The little place around the corner, Sydney got it for you too. You can stay there in between."

"In between what?"

"In between looking like you don't know where you belong. When they talk to you, that's your story. Adella was gone by the time I was there, but I _think_ there's a good chance they'll take you in."

"To an orphanage," she warned him.

"No. Just tell them about your mental health," Jarod reminded her. "Tell them that your real parents aren't . . . " Words. "Tell them that your mom died and your dad isn't a good man. Sometimes it disrupts your health, but you'll be fine."

" . . . life rarely goes the way you want it to, Jarod," she said. "I'll try, but I'll be out there trying to find a job too. To survive. If your little scheme doesn't work."

"I know people. I know that family will take care of you. Promise me you'll try? You'll be better off, not alone, with your memories." Jarod gave her a scrap of paper with a number on it and the key to the little place. At the top of the number it said 'In Case of Emergency'. "This is your key and Sydney's number. If you want to talk to me later, contact him. We'll find a way to talk." He pushed it into her hand, making her take it. "He won't leave The Centre until everything is settled. He promises. If you still can't . . ."

She had no luck getting back to 2019. Not a blur. Not a sound. Nothing, and she had tried with him. Oh, how she tried. He never watched somebody try for something so long. Many times at night before bed, she tried. She tried during her work breaks. She tried before work. She tried all day on weekends. She tried at every opportunity. And she failed. He even gave his input and tried to help her refind the sounds, the smells, anything. The coffee she drank didn't exist in 2000 let alone the 70's. He still tried to brew up coffee. He tried to find a more memorable day to slip into for her. Nothing. No matter what she chose. Nothing.

So this was it, there was nothing else for her. She walked forward but looked back. Her eyes were unsure. Unsure of the plan. Unsure of the future. Unsure if anything was the right action. But. She just proceeded forward to around the corner.

Jarod knew she couldn't live there too long at the little place for herself. They barely made it with their salary and Sydney's help. _They'll take her in. If she just tries, I know they'll take her in._

He walked back to the bus stop he took. He felt miserable leaving her like that. His family would be in trouble if they took her in though. _Family. _He could finally see them. He could finally see his mom! He got on the bus, knowing the next family to see was his.

But as excited as he was, her eyes looking back toward him right before she walked away. It haunted him. _She'll be okay. I know she'll be okay. The family couldn't be better. __Sydney__ knows where she is. She'll be okay._

She had to be.

* * *

**Harriet Tashman Farm: Upstate ****New York**

Jarod knocked on the door of Harriet Tashman. Right now, his parents should be above her barn, with Emily. Born in 1969, she'd be about 5 years old now. His dad, he'd be able to see Major Charles again. And his mom? He'd barely ever set eyes on her.

Harriet answered the door with a nice smile. "May I help you?"

He gestured to himself. "I'm Jarod. I'm here to be with my family."

End of Act 1

* * *

**Miss Parker Remembers: The original time of the 90's and going back in time to 1973.**

**Jarod: ****The original time of the 90's and going back in time to 1973.**

**Broots: Not Here Yet**


	8. Jarod Can't Do Anything

**ACT 2: THE GIRL HE KNEW FROM THE CENTRE**

**The small place above the barn of Harriet Tashmann's House**

Jarod looked toward his mom. He tried to smile. For so long, he never even knew her. Over the last month, he got to know her plenty well. The gene pool of pretenders, it came from her. Although she didn't use her own skills. She looked at him a lot of times, even when he wasn't looking back. Partly a little creepy, but he understood. Two of her sons had been taken away from her.

"Jarod. Move." Emily, only about five, pointed to the board. They were playing Candyland. Jarod moved to the next red square.

It was great getting to see his sister so young. He'd be able to watch her grow up. Help her too, she would be brilliant like him and Kyle. However, the future rang in his mind, about what the caretaker had said in his other time. They lived like they were Anne Frank. Hiding.

Oh yes they did. Very well. He wasn't allowed to look out the window. He couldn't go even down into the barn. Open air flow was limited and there was no heat or air. Only fans and a space heater. The space heater was barely used considering they were on top of a barn. Only when it got really cold. Otherwise, coats and jackets.

Emily laughed as she moved her piece again. "Gumdrop mountain bridge." She looked at him, her eyes full of delight.

"Go up the bridge." Jarod kept on a happy face for her as he looked back at his mom. His dad was over in the corner. This was their life. They didn't go outside. They didn't look outside. All day long. If it weren't for talking, or some little board games, there would be nothing.

He wasn't surprised about his dad. He did his own thing in the corner. That was dad. His mom though? The pretending came from her bloodline. She may not be a pretender, but she should be smart enough to pull them out. According to what he remembered though, they were stuck there until 1987, when Harriet Tashman was attacked. It didn't take long being up there before Jarod suggested he could help. He was turned down flat, fast. They were too scared to lose him, and he was way too young to be doing anything.

_Anything._

Including using a phone. No phone, no Sydney. No Sydney? He had no idea how Miss Parker was faring. Did she get in the family? Did she get a job? Did she leave the area for a different opportunity? Did she give up and go to The Centre? Nothing. Without Sydney, there was no connection. He moved his piece again. He wanted to help get out Kyle and Ethan. However, without ever being able to leave. It was tough enough just having four people there. Him, Emily, his mom and his dad. A small place over the barn. Besides space, his dad wouldn't let him help, but he also wasn't looking. How could he? They were hiding. No phones. No information. No nothing. "How about if we just-"

"No." His dad already knew what he'd say. "No telephone, Jarod."

"If you don't do something, then how can we look?" Jarod tried not to fight about it. He tried, but Major Charles was the final say. "I know where Kyle is, and I know Ethan can be found too. We could be a _whole_ family."

"No. It's too dangerous right now, Jarod," his father said. "We are glad to have you back, Son. You don't know how glad we are that you found us somehow. We can't risk that excitement for stupidity. There are people out there, and they are gunning for us." He went back to making wooden planes. His own outlet to survive in that small area.

Jarod got up. He'd never be able to convince his dad of time travel, and the fact they were searching for the boys but ended up running themselves? It seemed to traumatize his mother. There was only one person he'd be able to talk to, to the truth to, and it wasn't Major Charles. He watched his dad get up to use the bathroom. It was time to make a move. "Emily? Take three extra turns, okay? I'll be back." That should make her cheery enough

Jarod went over closer to his mom. She held her hands out and gave him a hug, sensing his frustration.

"I know, Jarod," she soothed him. "This is life."

"I can make it better," Jarod said. "I could get dad a great job, and you, and we could have a decent house. A real life, not hiding in here." Okay, maybe they would have to go Underground sometimes, but they could come back up. They needed to come up for air.

"I am just happy that you are here. I don't need a great job or a house again," she told him. "I just need my family." She stroked his hair. "I just need my little boy."

_Nope. Nope. _He couldn't start crying. He'd never get through with it. She had to understand. "You'll never find Kyle, or anyone else, and you_ never_ would have found me. You can't run and search in these conditions. You can only hide."

He didn't want to break her heart. He didn't want to share the truth about what happened, but if he didn't? So far, he'd been lucky. He only broke once in his memory, and it was in that time. He thought that the cameras had been removed in The Centre. He had just started getting mad at Sydney for lying, and then? No more Centre. No more cameras.

"How about a chocolate bar?" she asked him. "Your dad could go and ask Harriet for a chocolate bar. She'd drive to the store and get you one."

"Chocolate." Emily liked that. "Me too?"

"Sure. How about that?" She asked Jarod. "Would that be better? After you're done, we'll just put it in our little trash and your dad will sneak it out to hers with our supper trash tonight. No problems. Would that be okay?"

No. _I have to tell her. _"Catherine Parker." Share what she understood first. "The woman who helped you out?" She was listening. "She had a gift. It was like an inner sense." She nodded, like she understood again. "That gift could see into the future or the past."

Surprisingly, she nodded again. "I understand, Jarod," she said. "Catherine was a very special woman. I'm sure her daughter is too." She put her hand on his head. "Things change. You still can't use a telephone."

It wasn't the telephone he was after, it was her understanding the truth. "Catherine Parker could move through time using her mind." Once again, his mom made no motion of disbelief. "Do you believe that?" His mom was quiet for a little while. Like she was debating what she should say to him. "Mom?" He urged her. "Tell me, mom. Please? What you are thinking? I need to know."

"I need to know," she confronted him as well. "Jarod, why are you telling me all this? Be honest with me."

Honesty. _If she knows Catherine Parker could do it. _"Catherine Parker's daughter, Miss Parker. She can do it too." Little surprise. "She did it, but she got stuck. It changed, but she got stuck."

" . . . so did Catherine eventually," his mother admitted. "What happened, Jarod?"

"She changed something." It was time. His mother already understood. "She went back to when she was thirteen, and freed everyone her mom wanted saved. Including me."

His mom broke eye contact with him. "What year was she from?"

"2019," Jarod admitted.

"We never found you." She got it. She looked back at him. It was written all over in her face. "I _knew_ it. I've been looking at you so often, but I have not seen the eyes of a fourteen year old boy." She covered her mouth. "Your mind is about sixty years old, Jarod."

The bitterness in the difference in those numbers. "I didn't mess up this second chance, I got back to you and dad, and I don't care how many years it took!"

"You never found us," she said again.

"I found dad and Emily and Ethan! I had even found Kyle. He was out. For a little while," Jarod said. "H-he was killed, but he doesn't have to be killed this time. Everyone can be saved. I have a lot of experience, mom, I can do this. I can get us out, and I can get everyone back but I need help! I need Sydney."

"You never found me." She closed her eyes slowly and looked back at him. "It should only feel like slight déjà vu for most, if they feel anything at all." She bit her lip softly. "Not for everyone though. Key. The guards. They are supposed to guard. . ." She didn't finish the sentence. "No. Not until your older."

"I didn't want you to know," he confessed. He heard Emily whining about the game. "This is my time now, and I don't know if Miss Parker can do anything else, but I just don't want you to think of me any differently."

"You are still my boy," she said, "and I am still your mother. Why would I think of you differently?"

He wiped away a tear and smiled. "I know how to slip in and out of The Centre undetected. I know where Kyle is at. I don't know where Ethan is right now, but I have an ally, Sydney. He can help find him."

"And your father?" She asked. "Have you had any reoccurrences where you don't remember something? This past? Only this past? When you remembered The Centre and cameras earlier this month, it was a part of it, wasn't it?"

Jarod nodded. "I lived a month with Catherine Parker's daughter. It was too dangerous to tell her about this place. I knew that, but I have to stay in touch. I have to find out about her. I have to know she's safe." Please budge. "On her fourteenth birthday, The Centre made her feel responsible for the death of a family. Considering she let me go, whatever they do will be so much worse! I have to know, Mom."

"Don't yell," she warned him. She was quiet again. "You want to call Sydney to find out about her?"

"Yes." Finally! "I just need a few minutes to talk to Sydney, that's it, Mom. Please."

"And if she is in The Centre, you'll want to leave to save her." She was smarter than she looked. "I understand everything you are saying, Jarod. Your father _never_ will. How long are we safe here above the barn?"

"Until 1987. That's only because Kyle comes to attack Harriet and she doesn't understand who he is," Jarod said quickly.

"A long time." She hugged him tight. "I've already gone years on hope, Jarod. Your father and I are so tired. If The Centre catches us, they kill us. Your mom is a smart cookie, but I can't do what you can do. I can't escape easily and live a life at the same time." She let him go and kissed his forehead. Almost knowing if he got bad news, he would go. "Harriet's home, left side of the kitchen. Be discreet tonight."

* * *

**Harriet's House**

Jarod easily made it inside and found the phone hanging on the wall. He dialed the rotary and found his way to making it to Sydney's extension. "Sydney?"

"Jarod? I haven't heard from you in a month."

"My parents are so hidden, they won't even risk using a telephone," Jarod said to him. "I'm only here because my mom believes me. She knew about Catherine Parker's ability. My dad doesn't though, so just tell me. Is Miss Parker okay?"

"Miss Parker?"

"Yes." Come on.

"She called about two weeks ago."

"And? Sydney?"

"She said if you asked, she's okay. She's 'with them'."

"Yes." Oh thank goodness! He knew they would be the right ones.

"She also said . . . hang on, let me get the paper. Ah, she said 'The annoyance level is only slightly decreased with this brother. At least he isn't a cannibal?' Did you catch that?"

"She's okay." What a relief. "Did you look into Kyle?"

"I have found someone matching that name, description and the age you were looking for. You were right. There is an SL-27. It's a dangerous place to stay in for long, I'm not allowed in there."

"Of course, but I'm glad you found him." Jarod sighed. "Ethan?"

"Not yet, Jarod. That will be very personal to Raines."

Broots could have got into his office and found it. It would be tougher for Sydney. "Follow Raines and keep me posted. Keep me posted on Miss Parker too please."

"Whenever you can call, I will give you what I have, Jarod. However? These children. I don't know what to do with all of these children. If you can't help. If you can't call. I will pass on the list to someone who Catherine trusted, I can't just wait around The Centre anymore. I want to make it back to Michelle and Nicholas. Nice name. Nicholas."

Jarod hung up and quickly headed back to the barn. _All about Nicholas. Now he just wants to bail and leave the kids. I am trying, __Sydney__! _ When he went up though, he saw Major Charles in a different light. A light that Sydney gave off when he was displeased with him. A light that he didn't see when he was a full grown adult. He didn't like that light.

"You're _not_ supposed to leave." He would have yelled at Jarod if yelling was permitted. He thrusted his finger back upstairs. "Get up there. Now!"

* * *

Jarod held Emily tightly on the other side of the room. It was the dead of night, but his parents were disagreeing on the other side. It would have, however, been outright yelling if it wasn't dangerous. He kept Emily close to him so his little sister didn't get scared. The topics weren't anything she needed to know about at her age.

**_"He can't use the phone, period."_**

**_"He needs to keep in contact with Sydney and Catherine Parker's daughter. It's important to him."_**

**_"No, Margaret. It's too dangerous."_**

**_"He knows how to get Kyle out already, Charles."_**

**_"He's not ready to do anything near The Centre."_**

**_"Yes he is."_**

**_"No, he's not, he's fourteen."_**

**_"No, he's not, and you need to start opening your mind. How else did he find us when not even The Centre could?"_**

**_"I don't know, but according to you, Kyle did too in the future. Right? It must be possible then."_**

"Jarod?" Emily asked him. "Are you from the future?" Jarod nodded. "Oh," she said. "Why doesn't dad believe?"

Jarod held his finger up and shooshed her. Now wasn't the time. His father was a hard man to make headway with. He remembered how much his dad didn't even want to take his clone from the Gemini project at first. Like he wasn't even real. He had to hope his mom's opened mind could reason with him.

**_"Miss Parker, Catherine Parker's daughter, had the same gift. Charles. She turned it all back to change it. Jarod is here because of her."_**

**_"He isn't himself because of The Centre! It warped his mind, just like you said it will do to Kyle. Right? He stays unaffected then? You're story is already twisted. No, Margaret, no. He's not using the telephone."_**

**_"He's going to have to do more than that. He's going to have to leave to get the rest of our family."_**

**_"Never. I'm not losing my boy again."_**

**_"He is so much older than he appears, he is experienced and he is much better than I am at all of this. The Centre chased him for so long, and never got him. He lived in the meantime, he didn't hide in someone's barn forever. We need our family, Charles. We can't just hide and be happy with what we have."_**

**_"Risk him to get the others? Insanity. We'll lose him."_**

**_"No, we won't. He knows where we are at. No one finds us here, Charles."_**

**_"Margaret. I don't see how you think you can ever convince me of this. _**

"Do you have chocolate bars in the future, Jarod?" Emily asked him. "Do we get out in the future? Do I get to play on grass in the future, Jarod?"

"Yes." Only after she gets out from that spot. Until 1987. 1969-1987. A huge chunk of her life, sheltered and trapped above a barn. Although she didn't have to do sims, living like that wasn't much better. She wasn't watched by cameras and she was with her family. But? _Emily deserves better. They all deserve better. _They didn't get better. Not until after they disappeared. Then his father was separated from his mother and Emily later on.

He sat Emily back down and entered into his parents conversation. "I lived in The Centre for so long, I don't even remember you," Jarod told them. "I refuse to live in a small area like this for the rest of my life, with no contact with others. It's only a step up from The Centre."

"Don't say that," his father warned him. "This is life. This is how we live now. This isn't The Centre, it's getting away from it."

"No looking outside, no light, and Emily's never even touched grass I bet," Jarod said to him. "This isn't life. I can get you that, dad. I can get Kyle, Ethan, and I can get us out of here and out in public again. Walking down streets. Meeting people, without worrying about The Centre. I can do that. I've done it before for many years. You can run and search and live, and I can show you how."

"Jarod." His father kept his cool. "The Centre messed with your mind. There's no such thing as time travel. This is life. You need to get used to it. I'm not changing my mind. No telephone. No leaving. Stop."

"Then how are we ever going to get Kyle and Ethan?" Jarod asked him. "You'll never get anywhere hiding here. You can run and search at the same time. I did that. That's how I found you. That's how I found Emily. That's how I found Ethan." Jarod dragged out a sheet of paper he'd been working on. He hated doing it, but he was running out of options. He had to share it. "Look, here, dad? If you match this up with The Centre grounds, this map I drew starts from the entrance of how I get in, and then through the main . . ."

* * *

**Miss Parker Remembers: The original time of the 90's and going back in time to 1973.**

**Jarod: ****The original time of the 90's and going back in time to 1973.**

**Broots: Not Here Yet**


	9. The Tunnels of Little Miss Parker

**1973 ****Las Vegas**

Miss Parker walked down the streets. Showered and rested, she had a better chance of getting her pretty little face hired. She wasn't going to stick around a shelter for long. Get in, get help, and get out. "Excuse me?" She went into another store and gave her best sweet and innocent smile. _Good, good, good. _Looked like a young boy, high school, maybe college. She walked toward him trying to display the full confidence she used to express to The Centre. "Hi. I need a job." She looked at the name on the tag. "Paulie."

"We are hiring," he said. "I'll get you an application."

Hand to hand chance. At least getting recognized offline made it a little easier too. When he handed her the paper to fill out, she accidentally touched his hand. "Do you have a pen? Paulie?"

"Yeah." He gave her a pen.

Still minimal interest. _I could have wiped the floor with this guy when I was older. _She filled out the application as Paulie took care of a customer.

To say life didn't get hard was like saying the moon was made out of cheese. After she lost her nanny job due to a Triumvirate mob of three people muscling their way in, she ran for all she was worth. She kept going, even through the terrible neighborhoods. At least her Centre training kept her safe, and when someone tried to mess with her, she got away. She was grazed, and she was still favoring her arm, but trying not to show it.

After all of that, stepping into a pleasant area and expecting to find a job was near impossible. She survived with what she had left, but the jerk with the knife did make off with most of her money. She kept an emergency stash in her shoe, but that hadn't been enough. She was running on fumes, and when she realized she couldn't even afford a whole meal after one more night in the cheap motel, she knew she was in some trouble. When some guys hassled her, someone pointed out a homeless shelter.

It wasn't a fun experience. It wasn't anything she wanted to do again but her fake ID worked on it just as well as anywhere else. Jarod's ID skills were a savior. She got some essentials, definitely showered up, and she was out giving it another go. She wouldn't rest or stop anywhere between unless she had to. "I don't suppose I could use your phone for a real quick second?"

"Employees only," Paulie assured her.

Damn. If she could just reach Sydney, he could send something to her to help. Oh, to be able to have the only thing to groan about being Argyle tossing his block bucket over his head with the blocks still in it. "I really need to use the phone. Real quick call?"

Paulie looked at her up and down. Like he was debating. Jerk. _When I grow up, if I feel so inclined, I will come back and romance the socks off of you, get whatever girlfriend you do have dumped just to be with me, and then I'll leave you in the dirt and grime where you belong you son of a *****. _She smiled. "Well? I just need to call my dad real quick."

"Is it local?"

Of course, the clincher that always stopped everyone. "No."

"Sorry, there's no way. It's too expensive, the boss would can me if he found out," Paulie answered back.

_I would kill anyone, almost anyone, most people at this point for my old phone! _Her 2019 days. She could call anywhere, anytime, any day, and not worry about stupid stuff like . . . cost. When she could call. How she could call. Where she could call. Her only option to get in touch with Sydney was to get someplace to give her that long distance price and time free. _I miss the Phreaker, I admit it. _Jarod knew how to get free long distance. She didn't. Oh, did she miss that. _I'd kill for my good looks again. _Even at her later age, she still managed to get some heads to turn.

Not at that age.

She handed the application back to him. "Thank you, Paulie. I hope I get the job and we can become good friends. Thank you for your time." _Burn in hell little- like he couldn't help just a tiny bit?! Obviously I am portraying a nice, defenseless girl and this tool can't take two seconds to help! Unbelievable._

She left the place and went onto the next. At this rate, she might end up in the homeless shelter again. If she could find a job and get some temporary shelter for a month until her paycheck and she could make rent, that would work out. Then she could afford to call Sydney and tell him what happened. Life with Jarod, was way simpler. She hated how much she yearned for that little place they were renting and her annoying work uniform. It wasn't a choice though, their minds weren't theirs anymore. If she got confused she'd run away and rat him out. Then what?

Even as bad as it was though, it could be worse. Raines threatened it to her when she was a child. She was too young to understand, but like Jarod, her childhood blurred, and her adult reasoning could think about things in a current way that had happened long ago.

_/If you get into trouble, Little Miss Parker, Angelo needs a friend. Do you want to be Angelo's new girlfriend?_

_I'm Jarod's friend. I can be his friend if you want._

_I don't think you get what I'm saying yet. Stay out of trouble./_

_Raines would do it too, cowardly wheezing bastard._ Her dad would probably never even find out about her, just like he didn't know about other things beneath his nose. Supposedly. _I can't risk it, Daddy._

She went into the next shop when she heard someone call her name. She turned and glanced through the glass window she had open. Those weren't Centre men, but she did recognize Raines waiting in a car behind them. He hired thugs? He worked for The Centre, why did he hire?- _Forget it, just run! _She was used to outrunning and outmaneuvering Centre personnel. While she was ducking out on the people in the front of the store, she found more thugs jumping the fences from behind. She ran the other way again and one of the damn hooligans grabbed her coat. She broke the zipper and got away, still running. Local thug hiring was pointless, there was no honor, just a quick cash payout. They were messy, sloppy, and had no system to clean up like The Centre. Why was Raines-

The thing about locals though. They knew their area, and a lot wanted that prize. Outnumbered, she went down biting and cussing before she found herself being shoveled into Raines personal car.

"Good Morning, Miss Parker," Raines said to her as they drove off. "Don't worry, I'm not here to kill you. I've got different plans for you."

* * *

**1974**

The first time he saw her back, Angelo didn't know what to do. He left her with Raines for the first few days. Crossing Raines was always bad. Always, always bad. He'd catch you and it'd be bad. But?

It was Miss Parker. The daughter of the prettiest lady on Earth. She would probably grow up pretty too, if Raines didn't kill her. It didn't take long before he made up his mind once Raines started injecting her. Angelo tripped the alarm system so he could save Miss Parker and stash her in one of his tunnel areas. When Raines came back and asked about it, he just said 'Jarod was here'. It made him mad, but it worked. Jarod had the blame, and Angelo?

Had Miss Parker. She wasn't mobile anymore, but she was still talking. Still had her spirit. She wasn't always aware of what was going on, but she was alive. He stayed with her, almost always, unless Raines called him away or he had to go.

He brought her bits of food when he could. He brought her water. He kept her safe. In return, she kept him company. She talked to him, and each day, she seemed maybe a little better? She still couldn't walk though.

She still didn't seem always there.

Time continued to pass by. Their time together turned into months and Angelo found himself appreciating her all the more. He was never lonely anymore.

Like today. "Miss Parker?" He brought her a bag of chips. He was very good at finding good food. He shared that good food too. "Chips?"

She opened her eyes toward him and stared at the bag. "Low-fat?"

"I don't know." He looked at the bag.

"Joke, Angelo. Thanks." She held her hand out slightly, but she couldn't move her whole arm. Angelo scooted the bag of chips to her. He then helped her move her arm, so she could eat. He sat right beside her as she ate.

"It's good. Angelo help." He smiled at her. She was getting to be so pretty. She was getting taller, and really starting to take after her mother. She probably didn't know that yet though. "Angelo feed well."

"You do Little Nibbler," she said as she ate the chips. "Not one to complain, but this isn't much of a lunch yet?"

"Lunch!" It was lunchtime. "I help for lunch. What do you want?"

"Not picky," she said.

Uh? "Yes you are, Miss Parker."

"Another joke." She tried to smile. "If you find more than one thing, Sandwich would be fine. Don't overexert yourself trying to go for pudding again."

He smiled back at her and curled up beside her. He kept his hand right near hers but saw her starting to fade again. "More rest?"

"No." She tried to fight it. "I'm hungry, Angelo. I need to stay up and eat." Still, her eyes were closing. "Don't take too long. Extra affection later if you don't take long."

His eyes shined bright. "Got it." He took off down his road of tunnels. His Miss Parker needed food before going back to sleep. From her 'Little Nibbler'. Pet name. She loved him.

* * *

_Stay up, Parker. _She felt herself starting to gravitate downward. Whatever Raines injected her with months ago, before Angelo saved her, was still affecting her. She could move her hands, but full mobility was almost impossible. She had more power in her legs than her arms.

That was a good thing. To prop herself up, she tried to use her leg muscles. They weren't full strength but she could crawl. With Angelo's help, she tried to crawl around the tunnels to stay active.

It wasn't easy, but it was better than she started. She was almost paralyzed, able to eat only at first. As time went by, she could talk, and she could get better control of her legs. Her hands.

It was a good thing because every once in awhile, he had to move her because someone was getting too close to finding her. She resided in his treasure tunnels. A place filled with crackerjack toys and files upon files of Centre information. Who knew what he had in everything?

Who cared though, right now. With only managing a half crawl with Angelo's help, there wasn't much she could do. She befriended him as much as she could, but she needed food to survive.

Angelo snacked on food from places he found in his tunnels, but she needed real food. Especially in her condition, food meant survival. The first time he agreed and brought her real food from The Centre's cafeteria, she ate well, but he was scared and filled with so much fright. He refused to go back down there.

There was no safety. It was a long trudge to the tunnels. He couldn't watch his back, even if it was the dead of night. He was always scared.

So, not wanting to die, she tried to build up his self confidence. She told him fairytales of princesses and princes, and said when a man did something nice for a woman, he'd get extra affection. He was a hero.

Angelo enjoyed that well enough that he started to make the trips easier. He went at night and tried to find food that someone at The Centre brought that wasn't eaten. It was tricky. Someone would have to be there to bring it in the morning to a cooler, but be sick by mid day and miss out on it.

That was the best option. Usually, she sadly couldn't get that. Sometimes the day was filled with junk food, or he had to hawk someone's food from their office in the middle of the day when they were there.

Angelo was with her so much though, that he was starting to get hung up on her. Hugs and affection for a hero, turned into wanting kisses from a girlfriend. Angelo found better ways to go, safer places to snatch from, and had got quite good at providing for his 'girlfriend'.

Raines had apparently referred to her as much to him too before Angelo busted her out. It made it tougher to reject him, yet it did get him to take risks for her to get decent food.

She _still_ went with him as hero, and she only had to give him a kiss on his cheek or the forehead. It didn't change his thinking though, compromised by Raines' words.

Raines had said he was going to make Angelo a girlfriend. Just not the way anyone thought.

"Sandwich." Angelo came back victoriously. "For my Miss Parker." He laid his cheek to hers and she gave him a light kiss on his cheek. He wore a brilliant smile for her. "Did good?" He lifted her arms once more, and noticed she was starting to slip down again.

She looked at the sandwich. "It's got mayonnaise. That'll go right to my thighs." It was a joke, but he wouldn't get it. She kept her hands propped as close to her face as she could. Her arms got so heavy, and she was still really tired. "Nuh." She had to stop though.

In true boy fashion, he couldn't help but want to touch her a little more than he should when he propped her up. It wasn't his fault, she knew that. Just natural instinct. She was the only girl in his life, and he _still _considered her his girlfriend to boot. "I'm boosted up, Angelo. I'm fine." She took the biggest bites she could, to get it in her mouth before the little energy she had to prop up her arms was spent. Angelo was helping too, used to help a lot more, but he got too touchy with that much help.

It was more up to her. Then she'd need a couple hours rest, and then would feel awake for several hours before it started all over again. It was a constant cycle her health couldn't break free from. A little better day by day, but day by day was a long process.

"Angelo found new book." Angelo brought out a book for her. Besides Centre information he also found things that he just liked to share. Books were a good past time. "Creative."

"That's great, Angelo," she said. "I'm not in the mood to discuss a story, or hear one right now. I'm going to need a couple of hours of rest."

"I know." Angelo leaned against her shoulder very delicately. "Miss Parker rest. Always take care of Miss Parker. No one ever find you."

"Well, I am slowly getting better, but definitely not where I want to be." Her legs. It would also help if she could move them more, but the arms. To crawl with those weak arms, they were the biggest problem. That and her energy level. Even if she had full mobility, that energy level. Damn Raines. "I'll slouch on down for a nap." Gravity would help with that.

"Angelo help." He gently helped gravity. "We can crawl later. Angelo set up nice surprise in end." He held his book as he left. "I'll come back and tell you about the book?"

"Great." Sleep. One day she would get better, but what then? There was no way out of The Centre. She didn't have any clearance. She would find a way to get to her dad, or die trying. It was her only option now. Oh wait. "Angelo? Did you find them?"

"Picture people? Picture people still safe, Miss Parker."

"Thanks." She closed her eyes again. She was thirteen, but on her fourteenth birthday it was supposed to happen. Very, very soon. But it was like Jarod had pointed out. The Centre set it up. She had no idea when they would do it now.

If they did, maybe Jarod would do what he promised, and save them. She certainly couldn't.

* * *

**Miss Parker Remembers: The original time of the 90's and going back in time to 1973.**

**Jarod: ****The original time of the 90's and going back in time to 1973.**

**Broots: Not Here Yet**


	10. Jarod Forgets Someone Important

**1974-Upstate New York- Above Harriet Tashmann's Barn.**

Jarod tried to breathe. It was going to be a hot summer. Still, he'd bear it to be with his family. He even had two brothers and a sister. His sister Emily was about six, his youngest brother Ethan was about four, and his brother Kyle was around 12. Just a couple years younger than him.

He was playing chess with Kyle. It kept the game more interesting to challenge his brother. His brother though? He was a little strange. He had some issues at first, but as he spent time above the barn with the rest of the family, he got better.

Except, he wanted freedom. Like Jarod. The closest thing they could get to freedom was sneaking out at night. The whole family went into the barn with the lights off. Their dad would check the whole perimeter and then the family could go out and relax in the fresh air.

It made the nights Jarod's favorite. Tasting freedom. He wiped his forehead.

"Jarod." Ethan tapped him on his shoulder. "Still waiting."

Jarod acted like he wasn't even there. It was the same thing every day. While Kyle seemed to get better, Ethan only got worse. He was, well, weird. He heard a voice in his head, and it always made him bug Jarod.

Anytime they were having a good time, he'd spoil it by telling Jarod about it again. Any time they weren't having a good time and just a couple of hours passed. He'd tell him again. Jarod hadn't got through a whole day without Ethan bothering him with it.

Now, it was nearly once an hour. "Jarod."

"Your turn," Jarod said to Kyle, ignoring Ethan. "Unless you forfeit?"

"I never forfeit," Kyle said as he moved his piece.

"Jarod." Another tap. "Jarod." Another tap. "Jarod."

"Jarod, don't ignore your little brother," his mother said to him from her chair. "Jarod?"

"Why bother?" He was getting tired of it.

"Because if you just ignore him, your brother will keep saying it, Son," his father reminded him.

"It's the same thing, everyday." Jarod groaned and looked at Ethan. "What, Ethan?"

"She needs you. Are you going to get her?" Ethan asked.

"No. She can rot away," Jarod said as he tried to pay attention to the game again. Of course, that led to a scolding. "But!" It was frustrating. "Can't you make him stop?"

"Jarod, no yelling," his mother warned him. "We've tried, Jarod. He just gets into a screaming fit."

"He's not like you, Jarod," his dad added. "He's. Different. Just answer him honestly. Don't make it harder than it is."

Jarod hated it. _Every day of my life, I have to be reminded of The Centre because of Ethan. I can't just live my life with my family in peace, no, every day my little brother has to bug me about it. _He took a slow breath. It was a game he couldn't win.

"Jarod?" Ethan asked, tapping his shoulder.

"What is it, Ethan?" Jarod asked, knowing what he'd say.

"She needs you. Are you going to get her?" Ethan asked.

"Who needs me and where?"

"The girl. The Centre."

"I didn't know any girls at The Centre."

"She's older now."

"Uh huh."

"She needs your help. Will you go help today, Jarod?"

"I only knew one girl at The Centre, Ethan, and I barely saw her. I don't know any other girls."

"Maybe she's the one."

"Her name was Miss Parker."

"That's not her name. That's not what you call her."

"Then there's no girl at The Centre, that I knew, that needs my help." He ended it choppy, but got through it again. He concentrated back on the game.

"Did you help the other children yet?"

"Sydney gave the list to someone." Sydney was supposed to save them. It's the reason he saved Jarod too. _No, wait. He didn't save me. That was Miss Parker. _It still never made sense why she did that. She just up and got him and . . . it was always fuzzy after that. They reached the car. He promised she'd be okay and then. Blank.

"Can I play?" Emily asked as she looked over Jarod's shoulder. "I can play."

She could. She was smart like her other brother and him. Ethan? It was hard to tell with him. He spoke well for his age. But everything else? Kyle made a move against Jarod. _Dangit, I lost my concentration thinking about The Centre again. I don't want to think about it! It's gone, it's done, why does Ethan always have to bother me about it?_

The only thing worth remembering in that place was Sydney and Miss Parker. She did save him, but he didn't know what happened to her. When his dad came with him to the phone, and he asked Sydney about Miss Parker, he usually said she was fine. That her Daddy forgave her, but because of her actions, she now lived in Europe so he didn't know anything new about her.

After awhile, Jarod just quit asking. As long as she was in Europe and fine, that was good.

"You still can't help the girl, Jarod?" Ethan piped up again. "She needs help."

"Once again, Ethan," Jarod said. "I don't know any girls. The only one I knew was Miss Parker, and once I met a girl named Faith. Faith is dead, it can't be her. Miss Parker's in Europe, it can't be her. You even say it's not her name."

"You don't call her that," Ethan said.

"Exactly." Jarod groaned.

"I think now might be a time for that chocolate," Jarod's mom said to Charles. "She kept extra?"

"Yeah. Jarod and Ethan, you two straighten up while I'm gone."

"I'm not doing anything," Jarod complained. He looked back at the game board. Without concentration, Kyle beat him. Kyle was just as smart, but he didn't have a little pest at his ear bugging him.

Jarod moved away from the board letting Emily have her turn. Even at six, she was already learning Chess. Meanwhile Jarod just went over to the window that was covered, looking out from all the netting. He could barely ever see anything. _I wish we could find a way out. _He didn't know the world though. He knew procedures and he knew a lot of things he could do, but he'd never used it. It was tough for his dad to let any of them out in the open either. The Centre was always out there.

Their home was always crowded. Barely any room. _Night time please come. _Even if he didn't want to go far into the grass, the fresh air was always worth it at night.

Margaret watched Kyle and Emily and Ethan all run around in the grass, but Jarod didn't do that. He was staring out in the distance, just breathing and enjoying the air. _Fifteen years old, Jarod. Still no memory of what happened._

A part of her loved that. Without that memory, her boy was truly her boy. No extra knowledge of the future, his eyes held youth and inexperience. He could play with his brothers and sisters like kids could do.

But another part of her? Knew they would have had a better life if he did remember. He knew how to get out there and manipulate the world and The Centre. He did so much. Accomplished so much, when he wasn't dwelling above a barn. That part of him, it didn't fear The Centre. It ran and it teased, and it angered, and it didn't care. The Centre couldn't catch up to him, and he just left calling cards for it. To let them know he wasn't scared of them.

Even when they did get him, he said he just got back out. Just as quick. He knew the secrets of it. Events that would happen, but they were all locked deep in that memory. _Fifteen, Jarod._

She felt blessed that he had shared his map with Charles. Sydney even helped them find a compromise for night and air, and Charles was letting the family out at nights together. It really helped.

Yet, Ethan was making it quite clear it wasn't over. What had been monthly botherings turned into weekly, and then daily, until Jarod had to answer at least three times a day before Ethan quit. _I don't understand any better than Jarod._

He was isolated in The Centre, so he never met any girl except Catherine Parker's daughter. She was the only one it could be, but Ethan always said it wasn't her. _Who is it, Jarod? Is there someone else you are forgetting?_

**Another Two Weeks**

"Outside. Ten minutes," Jarod was begging to his dad. He wanted to breathe again. He wanted to see the sky, without it being night. They all deserved some fresh air and sunlight during the day too. "Ten, Dad, that's it," Jarod guaranteed. "Let's walk in the grass for ten minutes. Ten."

His dad shook his head.

"Five minutes," Jarod reasoned.

His dad shook his head.

"Two minutes. Emily and Ethan. They are young, and they should have sunlight on their actual skin. They will be healthier with sufficient amounts of Vitamin D3 from the-"

"No, Jarod," he said. "It's not safe."

"It is, but nothing is ever going to be safe to you until you're forced off this barn!"

Ooh, a no-no again. Yelling.

No yelling. No looking out windows. Not too much extra trash. They ate the leftovers of whatever Harriet fixed and passed off to Dad.

If Harriet brought it, they got it. Otherwise, nothing. Nothing.

It wasn't healthy, especially for Emily and Ethan. They should even be starting school, or have a tutor. His mother did try to teach them, but she wasn't a teacher. They needed something else. Something more.

Jarod volunteered to help, but like everything else he volunteered for, Major Charles shot him down. He should let his mom and dad focus on his little brother and sister's educations. The most prevalent excuse? Jarod was young and inexperienced. He never even went to school, how would he know what to do?

Sydney taught him. He could bring some experience to the table at least.

Oh and then the family's health. He didn't know anything about that. Young and inexperienced. Vitamin Deficiency in anything wasn't _his _concern.

It was all his concern! His mom and dad frustrated him. They didn't trust him to help out with anything. Even something as simple as wanting to help to retrieve supper (which was usually a large casserole or soup) from Harriet.

Nope. Stay above the barn. Don't come out. The Major only.

That frustration only grew. When he tried to complain to Kyle, he understood, but he wasn't as frustrated. He was just happy to be out of The Centre. Jarod got that too. No Raines. They had their family. But their freedom?

Kyle just reminded him that at least dad let him talk on the telephone sometimes.

With Major Charles in the room though. Never alone.

Deep inside, Jarod felt it. His family could be doing better. Things couldn't have been as bad as they thought. The Centre was evil, but, if he just took a little time out there. Learned how the structure of society worked? He was sure he could find a way to get them out from above the barn.

His dad though. His mom. Half the time, Jarod just felt stuck. He should be immensely happy he had his family back. But. _Sydney__. Why can't I ever be free, even when I am? _An answer Sydney could never answer. A question he could never pose with his dad by the phone. And that phone call to Sydney? It didn't happen very often. Every three months or so. Jarod had to find his dad in the right mood. Even that was never long though. He'd ask about Miss Parker. He'd say Europe. He'd ask how everything was going. He'd say fine. It didn't last long, but it was still nice to hear Sydney's voice.

His father was great. Strict but great. But Sydney? He . . . Jarod's whole memories were about him. Everyday. He just wished he could hear his voice everyday. He even wished he could hear Miss Parker too. Understand more about why she did what she did.

Then he'd remember Miss Parker rescuing him again.

Then it'd all go hazy again.

Getting up the nerve, Jarod stood up and went to his dad. "Dad?" His dad looked up. " . . . I want to leave." Of course, his dad didn't look okay with that. "If I got out there and learned about the world, I know I could find out how to beat The Centre, and none of us would be-"

"No one beats The Centre." That answer came from his mother first, then his father.

"But I could do it," Jarod tried again. "Please?" He looked at his mom. "Mom?"

"Jarod. One day, I'm sure, you'll leave-"

"Margaret," his dad called out to her.

She didn't stop though. "You can't leave until you remember. Until you _know_ or understand what Ethan is trying to say to you."

What? "It's gibberish," Jarod insisted. "Mom! I don't know anyone from The Centre that was a girl except Miss Parker!"

"No yelling, Jarod," his father reminded him.

"This isn't fair. We deserve better." Jarod balled up his hands. He could feel it. _I could do it. I could pull us out of this place. I could do it! I know I could._

Solving Ethan's riddle though. It made no sense. Jarod tried to think who else he knew. He'd seen a couple of adult women, but he didn't know their names. He'd met Catherine Parker somewhere along the way but she was dead. He knew that. She wasn't a girl though. Faith. She was dead too.

Who was left? Miss Parker. But Miss Parker wasn't it.

One day, Ethan just stared at a block all day. He didn't play. He just stared at a block. Jarod tried to help his brother. He and Kyle both tried to get him to notice different blocks. It didn't work though.

"A," Ethan said holding the block. "It's A."

"Jarod?" Kyle called to him. He gestured toward Ethan. "Ethan. He's like . . . the other one. The one in the tunnels."

"Angelo." Yeah. He knew what he was talking about. It was different, between Ethan and Angelo, but he understood what Kyle meant. If they didn't get out there, and get real help, Ethan would never get better.

Jarod approached Ethan. "Give me the A block Ethan." Ethan pointed to Jarod's coat. Jarod went over and fetched through his pockets. "You want the sucker for the A block?" He just shook his head and pointed again. Jarod looked again. There was nothing in there. "Let's switch blocks? Switch the A block?" Jarod suggested. "What else do you want?" He looked at the ground. "How about C? E?"

"B," Ethan said. "Default is A, but B works too."

_/"That'll be great Miss A." Her first designation. "Your default between our dealings."_

_"I figured Miss B would be the default." She looked out towards the window. "Blizzards turning into rain again. I hate rainy nights."/_

It was . . . "Miss A." Jarod glanced toward Ethan and saw him smile. "Miss A." He looked back to his mom and dad. "I need to call Sydney."

Jarod's memories came back into his head and the fog he had felt had started to lift. "Sydney?" He got him on the phone. "Why didn't you tell me the truth about Miss Parker!"

"Jarod," Sydney replied. "Jarod, your memories disappeared. Your parents and I decided it would be smart to just leave it out of your mind. Your father never fully accepted, but using the map you drew for him . . ."

**Almost one year earlier, 1973 . . .**

Jarod was just getting tired of not being able to help with anything. Having to leave his brothers that he could get out right now by himself. Being forced to sit there above that barn, where he should be able to be getting them all fake identities and great locations to live.

And above all that, when Jarod tried to make that point, his father brought up what he did wrong. To him. Like it was proof he was right, when it was just proof he didn't understand.

"That was dangerous," his father said yet again. "Not to mention foolish. Both of you, underage, out on your own for a month. You should have came right here, Jarod. You knew where we were."

"He didn't want to leave her alone," his mother stood up for him. "If their minds were fine after the traveling, he may have even brought her with him."

"It's a good thing I didn't, she couldn't stand it here." It fell out. His father didn't say anything else. His mother didn't say anything else. Nobody said anything except Emily playing with blocks.

"A." Emily said. She pointed to the next blocks. "B. C." She pushed them together. "Miss her, Jarod? Is she coming here?"

"Never."

"Never miss that girl?" Emily asked confused.

"Never letting her come here," Jarod answered. _Ethan and Kyle. _"Freedom."

"What did you say, Jarod?" Emily asked. "Freedom?"

"Freedom." Freedom.

"What's wrong, Jarod?" His dad asked. "Jarod?"

"Freedom." No more. He stood up and looked down at Emily. "I know where you are at, Emily. I know where everyone will be at. Where everyone stays at. Where no one ever comes out of." Jarod grabbed his coat, and-

"Jarod!"

-didn't care how loud that bell rung that his dad put on the door. His decision was made. He rushed down and out, only hearing his mother partly with his dad trying to keep up. Major Charles wouldn't keep up long though, he wouldn't risk Emily and his mother. It was all he had.

"I'll be back for you!" Jarod yelled. "I have to get my brothers, but I promise I'll come back!"

Jarod understood why his dad did what he did and why he held him back so much. Even Harriet mentioned the fact in the future that they never spoke about their children. They had been looking for them ever since they'd been taken. The constant searching, The Centre catching up, probably kill orders on his family.

They were damaged inside so much, they refused to even look outside. They refused to move until Harriet was kidnapped. Then his mom showed her true colors, running to Harriet to make sure she was okay. Catching herself on camera, which led him to her in the future briefly.

Jarod wasn't abandoning them. He just couldn't save them as they were right now. He knew where they would be, but he needed them to get out. Become willing to _get out_. In the meantime, they were safe, but his brothers were still trapped. Ethan would be three or four now, and Kyle was twelve or thirteen.

They came first. Jarod slowed his run to a walk. He crossed a memorable field. He kept going until he finally reached a pay phone.

_I can finally call __Sydney__. _Jarod put his money into the payphone. _I can talk as long as I want now too. _Not that he would, but he could. In fact? _I can talk straight to Miss Parker, he'll have her number._

He followed his own procedure once again to reach Sydney's extension. "Sydney?"

"Jarod." He always recognized his voice. "It's good to hear from you. How are you?"

"Not good. I'm about to catch a bus to somewhere," Jarod admitted. "I couldn't do it, Sydney. I love my family but my dad wouldn't believe me."

"Not many would believe that you time traveled, Jarod," Sydney reminded him. "It's hard to wrap one's mind around that."

"It wasn't just that. I couldn't do anything there," Jarod said. "I tried to tell them that I could get my brothers and he wouldn't let me go. He wouldn't even listen on how to go. My mom just followed what my dad did. Even talking on the phone, he hung a bell up on the door to make sure I didn't sneak out again."

"That should be easy enough to defeat for you."

"If I wanted to, yeah, but it was just the reasoning behind it. I never looked out. I never came out. My little sister Emily? I don't think she's ever touched grass yet. Being so-called free and she can't go outside for even a few minutes." Jarod slowed down, waiting for Sydney's input.

"Your family has been through a large ordeal, Jarod. They don't have the same skills you had and your father is only trying to protect you," Sydney offered. "But, I understand your view as well. You can't just run, if you want to catch too."

"I run and search, and I know how to do both. I know they'll never leave that place though," Jarod said confidently. "Not until they feel secure. I'll get a place, get my brothers out, and then I'll bring everyone together." He smiled. "Like it should be. A backyard for Emily and Ethan. A regular life for me and Kyle. I'll show them the warning signs to watch for. I'll show them how to track where The Centre is at. I'll do everything I can."

"That's good, Jarod, but what about your disrupted mind?"

"Yeah, that fogginess where I can't remember the future time." Jarod knew that. "I have to risk it, Sydney. I think I'll be okay as long as I'm not around any future hunters from The Centre. I'll assume it's a SIM, experiment, or I bumped my head in some kind of escape."

"You have to do what you have to do." Still, Sydney didn't sound pleased. "I would not leave your parents for too long with no word, Jarod. They are scared and they don't move, but their child they have been looking for finally came back to them and just ran away. There's no telling what that could do to them."

"I know that," Jarod insisted. He gripped the phone. "I didn't want to, Sydney, I hung on as long as I could. I told them I'd be back. I'd even call once a week. I couldn't just be there, Sydney. I could live in that place for years, while my brothers suffered in The Centre. While Kyle continued on in SL-27. It wasn't fair." He sighed. "How's Miss Parker?" Sydney didn't answer at first. "Sydney?"

"I don't know, Jarod. She hasn't called," Sydney said. "That could be a good or bad thing. There hasn't been any word or trace of her around here though."

"Do you have her number?" Jarod asked. Sydney gave him the full number. "Thanks, Sydney. I'll be in touch. A lot sooner this time." He hung up and looked at the number. It didn't take long before he got to the number.

"Hello?" A nice woman's voice.

"Is this Adella?" Jarod asked.

"Yes."

"Is Miss Parker there?"

"Oh. Are you Boy Wonder?"

Jarod smiled. "Yeah. Is she there?"

"Uh. No. Sorry. Argyle's nanny isn't here."

_Nanny? She's not? _"Where is she? Is she temporarily out? Is she at work?"

"No, Boy Wonder. Some people came a week ago. They tried to snatch her. She ran in time and my husband conked one of them on the head, but-"

"Which way did she go?!"

* * *

**Miss Parker Remembers: The original time of the 90's and going back in time to 1973.**

**Jarod: Throughout a good sum of this, Jarod only remembered his time in 1973. Towards the end, he remembered t****he original time of the 90's and going back in time to 1973.**

**Broots: Not Here Yet**


	11. Inner Sense Tattoos?

**Las Vegas, 1973 memory continued . . .**

New shelter and plan next, definitely next, but he had to find Miss Parker. He got the details from Argyle's mother. Miss Parker didn't want to become part of the family. Instead she went to the front door, explained her situation as best she could without giving away The Centre or time travel, and offered to be the nanny of Argyle for free for some room. She even paid for her own food, and was trying to find her own job. Understanding difficult times, Pops couldn't turn her out, and Argyle having a nanny was probably a good thing.

That guy was prone to getting into trouble. Jarod went the direction Adella indicated. She was good enough to escape The Centre, but if he followed all the indications right, he should find her.

She clearly wasn't anywhere with a telephone or she would have called Sydney to let him know what happened. Someone in The Centre had almost caught her, and Sydney's group wasn't made aware of it. It might not even be The Centre, it could have been the Triumvirate that wanted her for information on him.

He kept walking straight, finding the neighborhood getting less pleasant. _Grown woman trapped inside of a teen. She isn't afraid of the dark, but she isn't stupid. It happened around mid-evening, before it got dark, she would start looking for a place for shelter._

Jarod looked around. Knowing she wouldn't keep going straight, he started to turn away through some quick alleys. He ran into someone sitting on the ground, just like he had been with Miss Parker some time ago when the time change first happened. He held out her work photo. "Have you seen this person?"

He looked at the photo. "Pretty girl. I'd remember if I'd seen a pretty thing like that."

By the looks of it, he was always out there. _She didn't go past here. _He moved back slightly, and started to turn around. She wouldn't move farther into the unpleasant areas, and she didn't pass that guy. She probably turned before seeing him.

_She knew it wasn't safe to turn back, There was no place for shelter around here, but she knew onward wasn't safe either. She saw that strange guy, she turned before he saw her, but she knew not to move back to Argyle and his parents. _She wouldn't go to her little place either, if she even still had it. _Damn. _He turned back around. _She'd risk it._

Not the best neighborhood. Growing dark around her. He felt around the fence now next to him, imagining she would be doing the same. Trying to catch a grip on some kind of reality. He saw an establishment up ahead. It didn't look friendly. _She wouldn't go back. Miss Parker commits to what she does. _Hating it, he continued to move forward. He could imagine the things being said, late at night, what she would hear as she crossed.

_Ooh, pretty little thing, aren't you?_

_Where's your mama, little girl?_

_You lost, Honey? Huh? You want someone to give you a ride home?_

The images. The sounds. The words. Her, all alone, late at night. By herself. _ I left her here. She was right next to this place. One family move, one. I thought it wouldn't be so bad, __Sydney__ was watching. Stupid me! _He left her. It sounded over in his head, along with the imaginings of what they must have said.

As he walked, he noticed some blood. The direction of it, the way it splattered, the recipient was her height. It wasn't much but he steadily followed it. Small drips.

She got away with minor injuries. _Someone found out my girl could fight. _He inwardly hoped their injuries were worse. The drops in the blood were balanced but longer. She was running. He picked up his pace and ran like her. _Not knowing where she was going. Not knowing where she should go. No one here for her. No one she knew that she could rely on. Alone. Afraid, but trying to hide it from everyone, even herself._

He ran and he ran. He kept running until the trail went dry. _She could have stopped to bandage it. _He continued onward on a slow walk. No establishments, no one there. Just walking in the dark.

He stayed on her trail. Somewhere out there, she had to be out there. No telephone. _I had to leave. I had to get back to my family. She wasn't safe though, someone else found her. I should have been more prepared. I should have stayed longer. _But their memories. After several nights alone above the barn, he had thought of what could have been the answer. _If we can record our memories. We'll know our voice, if we get an audio recorder. We can tell ourselves not to be afraid of each other. That we didn't understand what was going on, but we trusted each other._

It couldn't be too late to try. He heard a dog barking in the distance, and now it was almost mid-afternoon. About the time she had been forced out. He kept going until it got darker. She still went ahead. He sensed it. She never changed her mind about something easily, and only The Centre lied behind her. _This is how bad she wanted to leave it too. This is how scared she really had been of The Centre now._

As the night grew darker, for him, the streets grew easier. He was coming into a nicer area with lamp posts and places to eat. _Thank goodness. _She made it to safety. He didn't know how much money she had left, but she wouldn't go for the cheapest thing alive unless she was flat broke.

A decent in between place of a decent cost. She couldn't order her usual or go to a fancy restaurant but she wouldn't be shooting for a cheap burger if she could help it. _Bingo._

She may have gone to eat at any of the flashing neon light fast food places in the time she was gone, but there was one place she would be coming back to. The only thing that would seem familiar when she was stuck out on the streets. The chain restaurant name of where they used to work.

He went inside and looked around. He didn't see a phone. Explained why she never called Sydney. There was a cheap motel nearby it. One that didn't look like she'd stay in it, but desperate times. He went there and rented a room for the night.

He got up at first light and went to the same restaurant. He waited on a bench right outside. He went inside to eat for each meal, but otherwise waited outside.

He asked people in and out there randomly, mostly people that seemed like regulars, if they'd seen her.

"Yeah," someone finally said as they pulled her picture closer. "Cute, cute thing. Oh yeah, I remember her."

Jarod wanted to yank the picture away faster, but he needed the information. "Do you know where she went to?"

"She ordered hamburgers and fries like two days in a row. Last day I saw her was a couple of days ago. She only ordered fries." He pointed to his friend beside him. "Winston might know more."

The guy next to him who hadn't said a word. "Winston," Jarod greeted him. He took his picture back from the other man and showed him. He immediately regretted it as Winston grabbed it after biting onto his burger. Now it would have greasy marks on it.

"Yeah," he said slowly, his dirty fingers rubbing streaks on the picture. "I remember her. I was real nice. Tried to buy her a burger on that last day. Also, she hadn't showered in awhile and her hair was a mess so I offered to take her back to my place to get cleaned up." He tossed it back on the table. "Little ***** refused." He slowly smiled to Jarod. "Guess she was smarter than she looked."

"Guess so." Jarod's voice was dry as he picked his picture of her back up. Even if it was familiar, there was a good chance she wasn't coming back with this guy around.

"Hey, I've seen that girl."

Jarod looked at the waitress over his shoulder. _Better news, please._

"After these jerks tried to mess with her, I think Anne told her she couldn't come here no more, and she should go to the local shelter instead."

Local shelter? "Address?"

* * *

Gone. Jarod went as far as he could, walking the streets, finding out more after the shelter, tracking her path from business to business for hiring but her trail died. At a bad place.

The last clue he found was her coat. In that kind of weather, she didn't tear it off, and the zipper wouldn't be broken on it. _My. Fault._

Worst of all? The Centre wasn't sloppy. They would never leave a coat behind. If it's broken, it also meant a struggle. The Centre didn't struggle. Nab meant nab.

Someone took her but it wasn't The Centre.

It wasn't The Centre.

Jarod went to a payphone and called Sydney. "Someone overtook her, Sydney," he started before he could even question. "It wasn't The Centre. She clearly struggled; she may have almost got away. Even with her skill though, she was thirteen. Only thirteen." Not built for fighting yet. "I thought it was safe, just your team."

"That's terrible. I'm afraid you are right. It wasn't us, Jarod. My team has been here with no leads. Can you pick up her trail?"

"It's gone." He kept her coat in his hand. "A broken zippered coat. She tried to find something again after going to a shelter."

"A shelter, she went to a homeless shelter?"

"Because she didn't know how to call. Because she didn't know . . ." He stroked her coat tenderly. If he could Pretend, he could get closer. Be taken seriously, get a good job that would let him dig into it, survey it all out and find out what happened. Being just him though, being just a kid named Jarod.

Lost. He really did feel like a clueless kid. "I _caused _this, Sydney."

"Jarod, she chose to leave with you. I know that, in your time, you are both older but things happen. You are both different. You can't have the same opportunities given to you that you had before. Nothing is guaranteed. Please? Let me find a safe home for you, until your family situation is corrected."

"It's _not_ the opportunities that stopped me, it was the fact that I didn't trust her! I didn't trust me. Our minds aren't normal anymore. But I _should_ have trusted her! I've been staying down, keeping my head far from the clouds, so that I could get to my family safely. No ripples to and from them. Nothing leading anyone there. Nothing tracking me." He pulled on the broken zipper tag. "I was selfish. I should have trusted her. If I did, we'd have been better off." He broke off the zipper tag. "No more, Sydney." He dropped the jacket and the phone as he looked at the end of the zipper tag. "No more."

He was having a talk, tonight, with his dad. He needed to get his dad to believe him, so Miss Parker didn't get caught for nothing. No matter what it took. She wanted to grant her momma's wish, he was going to make sure it was granted. "I'll come for you," he whispered as he looked out. "If you're alive, I'll find you. If you aren't?" He looked back at the zipper tag and squeezed. "I'll still find you to-"

Not even being able to say it he just slid down against the back of the wall and faced the sky for a few minutes before pulling his knees up and hiding his face, sheltering anyone from seeing how broken down he just became.

He couldn't die on the streets, just because he needed to cry.

**Back to 1974 telephone Call**

" . . . he rescued Kyle. I gave and helped with Ethan as I could," Sydney finished on the phone as Jarod's memories hurled back to him. "Getting it done as soon as possible so you didn't feel you needed to run away for your brothers in_ that_ condition was vital. Your father was so worried he even compromised by letting you have time outside at night. That . . . took some doing. After that, I didn't know what to do about the children. I thought about someone I trusted and . . . I thought about Michelle and Nicholas. It had been a year since your memory was fixed to only this time. I? You must understand that. Jarod?"

_No. No, no, no. _Jarod almost hung up. It had been so long, and in actuality he really was so old, but his fifteen year old hormones that ran through his body? It still . . . no matter what. "Please, Sydney? Please don't tell me you left already to find them, please!" He begged. "I need you at The Centre, I need you more than anything!" Then, he noticed the look his dad was giving him as the phone was taken from his hand and hung up.

"Back upstairs. With your _family_," he said firmly. "The Centre's treatment on you will pass again. Go, Jarod."

"I-it was too much grief," Jarod reasoned. His mind was trying to process it. _Too much grief. I forgot because my mind let me run away, I didn't want to remember. _He looked at the zipper tag on his coat. The light blue one next to his. _I hung her broken zipper next to mine. _Apparently, grief would have a hand in how long he forgot too. Almost a whole year.

Then, he thought about Ethan. This whole time, Jarod didn't understand his brother's gift. He only thought he was an annoying kid brother that asked the same thing, over and over. "Ethan."

Ethan had Miss Parker's inner sense. He didn't know how to travel in time, but he had her mother's voice. "Girl in The Centre needs help. You knew in The Centre. You didn't call her Miss Parker." He repeated what Ethan always said and glanced toward his dad. "I was tricked. I have to go."

"What?" His dad watched him start to move backward. "Don't tease, Jarod. You can't do that again."

"I'm sorry, but." Jarod assessed his entrances. He always had. "It's her, it's Miss Parker! She's not dead, she _is _at The Centre and she needs my help!" Jarod pulled out before his dad could grasp him. Déjà vu was so strong as he ducked and ran out the window, making it harder for his dad to follow, but he had to break free. He had to rescue her.

"It can't be her!" His dad tried to chase him down through the front door to cut him off. "Ethan said it wasn't her! Think logically!"

"Ethan said I didn't call her Miss Parker!" Jarod yelled back, his not quite as athletic legs propelled him forward with adrenaline. "Because I didn't!" She was Miss A. that whole time he'd lived with her.

That time was gone though. Miss Parker needed him. He tried to outrun his dad, not an easy feat. To accomplish it, he had to duck in and out of the barn, and make the most of his smaller form. Meanwhile, he had to ignore everything his dad was saying. He knew it hurt, but what he had now was the best he could hope for. A little time outside at night and a periodic call. His brothers. That was it.

_All I ever wanted was to find them, but I have to break their hearts. I have to go. _As he made one more cross out of his dad's view, right before he took off into the long journey he had to take?

He saw his mother, actually in front of the window. Smiling at him. He could read her lips.

_Run, Jarod. Just run._

And so he did.

**Hotel: ****New York City**

Sydney waited in the back entertainment area of a fancy hotel. It wasn't his doing, or with his own cash. He waited for Jarod to come back and meet him. Jarod approached with some papers and laid them down for Sydney. He looked at them, but also at Jarod. Even Sydney wouldn't be able to identify him as a fifteen year old. "You look good, Jarod."

He didn't answer right away. Then, he took his shades off. While it killed the illusion of his age a little, his refined attire didn't. "I had to study clothing in a whole new way, including the framing of the face to reach an adequate level of acceptance." He gestured to the papers. "I want you to keep a copy of all of this, every single piece. No matter where you go or what happens. I have copies too. Several."

Sydney studied the papers. Papers of future events as well as all the small details that Jarod could add about what happened, as well as his best way to convince him of what happened. "There is a lot of explanations in here, Jarod. They all start over on different paragraphs for different years."

"I went through a lot in my lifetime, Sydney," Jarod reminded him. "You can think of it like Picasso's different periods in his paintings. One explanation is not going to work if I'm in the middle of a different period in my life." He leaned closer to Sydney. "Nothing can be cut off from me, or I am going to miss something vital."

Sydney picked up his briefcase and placed the papers inside. "I will take good care of them, Jarod." He looked back at him. "How did you manage to get into a hotel in New York City, or those clothes?"

"I told you on the phone a long time ago," Jarod reminded him. "I could have _always _got this. Even with Miss Parker." He looked thoughtfully at Sydney. "I can't play around when I'm dealing with my family. I know what happens when The Centre is tagging me when I am after my family. I played it safe." He gestured around. "It looks luxurious, but I'm actually here for the reputation of their workout gym. I had a year of almost nothing, Sydney, and once I locate Miss Parker. I'm sure it's not going to be easy to take on what I will need to anymore without the brute force I had when I was older. Even this gym won't be a miracle worker, but it's already helped."

Sydney was feeling more at a loss as to what to say. His Pretender, had . . . lived. He was secure in not only the way he looked, but in the way he held himself. "It did my heart a lot of good to see you, Jarod. You are doing amazing out here."

Jarod didn't respond, just ordered something quick to drink than paid attention back to Sydney. "I've been trying to figure out what happened to Miss Parker. I know she wasn't taken by the regular Centre staff, but I trust and know Ethan in the future. He's trying to tell me she is there. She might be hiding in SL-27, just like Raines hid Kyle. I'm not sure though, and after taking out Kyle, I don't think Raines would jump there." Jarod looked at the table. "I'm going to get her out, and after I do, you're free. Sydney. I know where Michelle and Nicholas are, and I'll get you to them safely. No more Centre in your life, I promise. Only one favor?"

Sydney didn't know what to say. "Jarod,-"

"Nah, it's okay," Jarod chuckled oddly. Suddenly his frame didn't feel like it was as old anymore. Sydney saw the fifteen year old boy again, for a split second. "Thanks for not leaving The Centre automatically once I forgot because I really do need a favor from you, Old friend."

Old friend? Now, it was not Jarod that seemed young, but Sydney. Old friend? "What is it?"

"I am leaning heavily toward Raines being the one who snatched her, and I am going to need certain drugs that Angelo was on when Raines was dealing with him," Jarod confirmed. "I need you to get in there and get them." He pulled a piece of paper from his pocket. "I need these. Both of these."

Sydney looked at the list. He automatically wanted to warn Jarod that these drugs were dangerous and should only be used with the highest of precautions. Yet? _He already knows. _He tucked the paper away in his pocket. "I will do my best, Jarod. If you do find her though, then what? You said you only had one home for her. Can you think of other homes to put her in now?" Something flashed across Jarod's face again.

"That's what that one favor is," Jarod said slowly. "She has nowhere else to go, Sydney. I won't leave back to my family until I know yours, and Miss Parker, is safe."

Oof. "Until you know it's safe? Your father wouldn't even let you use the telephone, Jarod."

"I'm getting them out, without telling them I am getting them out. It will start with the Mother Superior Catherine knew, and I'll take them through a journey through there. I can get them the help they need, I just can't . . . lead The Centre to the help they need. I'm going to have to. Do my own thing."

Oh. Sydney was starting to get it. "Your brothers. Your sister. Your mother. Your father."

"All have a great chance to be a great family, as long as sacrifice is made. A_ little_ of my time," Jarod said. "I'll go back. I just can't . . . stay all the time."

"Miss Parker got you out, so that you could go back to them and stay." Insanity. "Jarod."

"I had a year, Sydney. I had a year of seeing what it must have been like for them. Experiencing it with them. I could go back and we could all live that kind of life for decades. The person helping will take care of us as long as she can. I know that. Meanwhile?" Jarod sighed. "Miss Parker is left in whatever hell she is in because I will be trapped above a barn, not to mention a wasted second chance at stopping a lot of horrific events." He shook his head. "I'll get those kids out, Sydney. I'll get your family out, and I'll get Miss Parker back to you too. You _have_ to take her though. That's the deal."

Sydney felt like slamming the table. Jarod had his family, he had time with them now! It's what he always wanted. Yet? _He is choosing this. _All the experience of his older years, it was choosing this. Even after a year with his family? He was choosing this. "I could get you stacks of . . . vitamins?" It felt wrong. It felt right and wrong. "You forgot everything for a whole year, Jarod. A whole year."

"Influenced by the fact that I wanted to," Jarod pointed out. "It happened when I thought . . . I lost her. I lost Little Miss Parker. I couldn't cope." He rubbed his eye. "She can't reverse what happened, Sydney, this is life. If she could, she would have by now. I know it. Whether I live years thinking its 1971, 1979, 1999, or 2019! I'm prepared to know what I have to do, even if I don't remember."

"Jarod?" Sydney said. "What makes you think-"

"A year with Raines and at least a night in a homeless shelter. She'll come with you, and she'll behave. I promise."

Sydney grabbed at his head. It just? He looked at the environment around him. Jarod's clothing. He could take care of himself. "I still fear the loss of your memory."

"I've got ways of making sure I don't lose track of things. No matter what."

"If you run, if you at any point lose papers, Jarod." Sydney stopped once Jarod stretched out his arm. "I see." Jarod had tattooed his arm with the words Never Leave Miss. He made a permanent scar upon his body, to make sure he didn't leave. "Vague but to the point."

"More like a reminder. I need to stay in touch in the future. I won't let this happen again, ever." Jarod pulled his arm back again. "Vague is exactly what I will think at _any_ age too. It will make me investigate for more and I'll find this." Jarod lifted up his shirt a second. On his stomach, he had more tattoos. Simple words with a date next to them. "Not easy to get," Jarod said as he put his shirt back down. "I have more on my back. Not everything, but the most important events to me. I will _never _lose it, Sydney.

Sydney took a deep breath. His Pretender wasn't going to turn back his decision. "Your own work?"

"Where I could reach. I recognize my own work. In other places, I got help. I've been around in the future, I knew where to get it done safely and without questions in the 1970's. It's only dates and key words I'd recognize."

"Your parents are going to have a fit among ages," Sydney managed to say. "You've tattooed yourself up at fifteen."

"I call them my inner sense tattoos. That should make it fly by mom?" His face brightened for a second with a chuckle. "Dad might want to kill me but it was worth it. He can't take them away," Jarod said. "They'll work if I do lose the papers and until I can find you for a copy, or until I make more again."

"Oh, Jarod." Sydney stood up. "Every family must have a rebel. Keep yourself in better shape than your father if you plan on running away this much." And he would. Jarod made it quite clear he meant to keep those dates. Whether it was running from above the barn or running from a new home he managed to find for them.

He would run to save someone, every time.

Jarod covered his arm back up fully as he stood up too. "Work fast getting those back to me. You see the bottom of that paper too? Get most of your stuff out, but I need you at that meeting they will definitely hold. Read _him_."

Sydney grabbed the paper with the list of drugs and looked at the bottom for the details as Jarod walked away.

Somehow, Sydney didn't feel much unease with Jarod committing Grand Larceny at this point.

* * *

**Miss Parker Remembers: The original time of the 90's and going back in time to 1973.**

**Jarod: ****The original time of the 90's and going back in time to 1973.**

**Broots: Not Here Yet**


	12. Jarod Fights Raines

**Delaware****: The Centre**

"And you, Sydney?" Mister Parker demanded. "What did _he_ get from you?"

"Five thousand," Sydney said plainly, "and some family antiques from my security safe." Jarod? Jarod had infiltrated his home and stole some money. Not nearly as much as five thousand. Jarod had already tipped him off to only leave a small amount in his safe.

Sydney could see why that was important because Jarod hit two more safes of people at The Centre, and he needed to be in on that conversation for Jarod.

"Five was _nothing_ compared to my fifty," Raines complained to him.

"Priceless antiques," Sydney added again. "You can't put a price on family heirlooms."

"Not fifty," Raines complained once again. "Jarod isn't happy with us," He looked at Sydney. "Even you. Your lap dog isn't even obeying you anymore."

"Well, I am hunting him," Sydney said testily. "He is free and _I _am hunting him. I am sure that displeases him."

"Displease him all he wants," Mister Parker said darkly. "It doesn't replace the 200,000 he stole from my security safe!"

They were each angry. So? "It might have been Jarod's way of teaching us to be more open to diversifying our valuables in the future."

"Teaching us nothing! He stole from us, Sydney," Raines scolded him. He stood in front of him, trying to make him feel cornered. "Your Pretender disappeared for a year, he came back, and now he's nothing but a common thief."

"I don't think a common thief steals 205,000 dollars," Sydney said back. "Maybe five thousand."

"Or fifty!" Raines yelled like Sydney forgot his own plight in his calculations.

"Yes, or that," Sydney said. He knew that was Raines' life savings, but he didn't feel sorry for him. If Jarod's new theory about Miss Parker was correct, Sydney had not an ounce of sympathy for him. He looked toward Mister Parker.

"All that money, my little girl, and more children of The Centre." Mister Parker said darkly. "Jarod will pay. He will pay! The Centre will recapture him and that little monster will be taught a lesson, Sydney, when we do!" He banged his fist on his desk.

"I don't think your daughter is with him, Mister Parker," Sydney mentioned as he placed his hands in his pockets. "If she had been, I'm quite sure she would have disapproved of him breaking into your house and stealing that money, Sir."

"No, he probably kept her away and lied about the money," Mister Parker disagreed. "She _has_ to be with him. She freed him. She's under his spell."

Under his spell? Although Sydney had remained there at the Centre, he had been making the necessary provisions to get out. Being two faced was hard, and sometimes it showed through. "They are young with rushing hormones I suppose, but I doubt they would ever go that far, Sir." That thought hadn't even crossed Mister Parker's mind, it was clear. "He is fifteen, she would be fourteen." He shrugged. "Suddenly doing this? Perhaps Jarod is just providing a better life for his own future. He certainly has the talents to do that."

"You're not right, he's not right." Mister Parker looked toward Raines. "He's not right?" He looked back toward Sydney. "You're not right! She's way too young, she's my little Angel!"

Sydney adjusted his collar. "Everything is all right, Sir. I am sure there is a better reason that Jarod risked all of this exposure to attain enough wealth to certainly hide them for a great deal of time."

"Sydney?" Mister Parker looked toward Raines. "Raines? You don't think that . . ."

Raines just touched his head. "Your thoughts are running away. They are kids." He looked toward Sydney. "Just _kids_."

"Kids have kids. Kids can have kids, and with that-that boy!" Mister Parkers thoughts were running away from him. "H-he doesn't experience anything that isn't a simulation! If he took my daughter because he fell for her?"

"Sir." Sydney held out his hand, realizing his actions hadn't helped. He needed to recover the situation. Slightly. "Perhaps Jarod is just teaching The Centre a lesson for not letting him be free during his time here. The Pretender is going through an adolescent phase out there, unobserved, but he is smart. I'm sure no matter the temptation your daughter may be having on him, he will most likely be able to refrain from anything."

"My daughter is not a temptress, she is a little girl!" He covered his head.

Then again? It was hard to decide how far to push things, and he often investigated in both ways. "You're right as well. There is a high probability that Jarod would rather be alone. His experience has always been alone and taking her may be too much of a burden or risk. I agree with Raines, most likely they separated at some point and she's out there away from him."

"No. That's even worse, she's thirteen out there!" Mister Parker flipped out the other way. "No, fourteen. Her birthday. Oh, which is better? I can't, I can't even think anymore." He sat back down. "I just want her back, Sydney, please. It's been a year! Out there. Alone or with him, I don't even know!"

"Don't worry, Sir. She has to be with him," Raines said oddly. "Unless he's so cold-hearted as to leave the one who freed him behind. That puts a different face on your Pretender. Doesn't it, Sydney?"

Sydney only shrugged. "As long as we are in the dark as to why she did what she did, all explanations are plausible."

* * *

**Somewhere Inside The Centre**

Miss Parker murmured slightly. She watched as Raines walked into the room, but as always, her strength was removed. Oh, for the good old days of being inside tunnels and reading stories with Angelo. To just go back to that, she'd even agree to the whole girlfriend thing. It couldn't last forever though.

"Feeling better?" Raines came closer to her. "So?" Raines held her arm tightly. "_Your _little escaped Pretender has been a naughty boy recently. He just stole money from your father's personal security safe. It's safe to say, your Daddy isn't happy. Add to that the children he broke out of here. They were special children. I still wonder how he knew about that?" He held a syringe near her arm. "Where is he?"

"I think I saw him . . ." her eyes glanced up to his. "Dancing with the kids down on Sesame Street." She was rewarded with a backhand, but she was used to it. _You'll never live long enough to start the wheezing._

"This is no game, he broke into my house!" Raines yelled at her. "Fifty thousand. Fifty thousand! I had need of that money. The Centre is not mine, I_ need_ that money."

She'd say something else, she wanted to, but she couldn't make him too angry. Too much backtalk and she'd end up having a bad day. A real bad day. Raines didn't play fair and he didn't play nice. But honestly, death was still better than what he ultimately had in mind. When he was finally done playing with her. So at the same time, she had to play.

Her sass kept her alive, but if it got out of hand, too much sass would kill her. She tried to space it out. To stay interesting. To stay herself. Because once he was bored and had nothing more to gain from her, it would come.

"He must have told you something," Raines insisted. "You were gone for a month and a half before my people found you."

"I've told you. He used his superpowers, got me a fake ID, and I was on my own," she said once again. She said it all the time. That story, it wasn't going to change. "He didn't trust me. Why would he spill his guts out about his family or his plans? He helped me with the ID because I broke him out. That's it."

"Do we have to go through round two again? Or round three of some persuasive tactics?" He growled. "I am almost out of patience with you. It's been two months."

He didn't have to remind her. Two months to the day that Angelo had been caught with her. Eight weeks with his sorry ass.

"I am getting to the point where I _am_ starting to believe you, Miss Parker." He took a drag of his cigarette and blew it in her face. "I'll admit? I thought you were a scared little girl, just like your mother. You've got a lot more fire than I gave you credit for. I hope I can use that later on for my use." He covered her mouth as he put his cigarette out on the wall near her head. It didn't frighten her. She was way past that. "Jarod is too close. We are going to make sure that even if he gets you? He never wins. Especially after stealing that much from me. So, my Angelo?" He almost smirked. "I think he's ready for his new girlfriend finally."

That comment made her start to struggle. That was it. What she feared. What he said! He used to say that to make her straighten up. It was what he said to put fear into her eyes. _Angelo. _It wasn't death, it was worse than death. Being turned into something like Angelo. _I tried, I tried, I tried, I'll try harder!_ She closed her eyes and tried to envision something from the future. _Smell something. Hear something. See something. Something!_

He continued to hold his hand over her mouth, and she was trying to bite the skin on his palm. Make him feel some pain. Still, she was a kid, and he was a man in his prime now. It didn't take long before he had the syringe near her neck. _Goodbye Parker. It's been a hell of a ride._

"You know what you have to do, if you don't want to become him," Raines insisted as he injected her and grabbed the next syringe. "You know." He held the syringe up toward her neck as he played the old elevator music for her to hear. "You remember this tune."

She could smell her mother's perfume. "No." She opened her eyes, hoping to see it somewhere.

"Sink deeper," Raines said as he injected her with the second syringe. "You remember that day. You have to remember that day, or you will end up like him. My tolerance is over after this shenanigan. I think you'll have a better chance being filled with more . . . empathy."

"I will send you to the earliest grave I ever can," she warned him as she tried to struggle. "I'll kill you Raines!"

"Look at that spirit. Still going," Raines said. "What were they talking about that day around the elevator?"

"Momma never died on the elevator. Why bother?!" Her head started to move back and forth. "She never died on that elevator."

"And how do you_ know_, Little Miss Parker?" Raines asked softly. "Where was she when she died?"

_No. Don't lose it. _Raines suspected something. He had an inkling of her mother's true gift with her inner sense, but he still wasn't certain. He was looking for a loophole too. Jarod probably got out Ethan. A loophole. He thought she was the loophole. _If I'm not the loophole, he'll turn me. _If he found out she was the loophole? What if he had plans on tapping that kind of power? "She was." He glared at her. "Dancing with the kids on Sesame Street."

She saw him going for the third needle. By the time she woke up. She'd be falling out of her own special chair. Just like Timmy. She knew she'd never be Miss Parker again.

Except that she heard the sounds of bells, someone tumbling and something else. A voice. Familiar, but young. Same guff. It couldn't be?

"Anyone for reverse role play?"

* * *

"I gotta admit, it was a real nice touch," Jarod said as he pulled the syringe out of Raines' neck. He'd snuck up behind him, jumped him, and tackled him around long enough to get the syringe in and Raines to the ground. "What better way to keep a young lady hidden from The Centre, then refusing to use its resources to get her? Bravado must be given." He clapped his hands but his humor turned away. "You made a mistake taking her, and now, you're going to answer to me!"

Raines already knew he wasn't kidding. Raines made his way to the drawer with the syringe that would counter it. Emergency syringe if he made a mistake. Jarod knew it would be nearby.

"What's wrong, Raines?" Jarod dazzled his hands out slightly. "Why not call for some backup? Oh, right, right. You have Mister Parker's daughter, _his_ precious Angel, in one of Angelo's old cells. Even if you are his brother, it would never turn out well, would it?"

"Jarod." Raines made for the counter syringe that would reverse the process, but Jarod was no fool. He was sure to grab it and struggled with him, outdoing his energy level due to the effects of the drug.

"Turning your own daughter into an experiment, you should be ashamed!" Jarod called out to him as he retrieved it. "No quick fix for you."

Raines grabbed at his neck, feeling the effects set in more. "I was . . . deciding," he admitted. He started to stumble. "She was such a weak little girl. I figured a week or so, but she was too interesting to let go. Her mind, it felt like her mom's. And her baby brothers. You took him, didn't you?"

"My own brother?" Jarod said to him. "Yeah, I think I did. I reasoned that he deserved to go home!"

"I was starting to explore that gift, and she was so less weak than I thought. I even toyed with letting her live and taking The Centre when she got older." He was holding onto the wall now. "But you. You . . . forced my hand."

"Of course I did," Jarod sneered. "What better way than to find out where you locked her up, than to make you mad with rage? Fifty thousand is nothing to sneeze at in 1974."

"That's how she talked too. Like she knew. Like she knew!" He was starting to go into spasms and fell to the ground. "How could you know? It didn't work with him."

Jarod bent down toward him on the ground. It was clear Jarod's mother wasn't the only one who knew what inner sense could do. "That discussion isn't for you. Now, let's discuss what is for you. If I injected you with 5 cc's of what you just gave her, it will paralyze you for about a week." Probably what he did to Miss Parker "10 cc's is gonna hold you hostage for a few months. 15 cc's? Will end all of your troubles forever." Jarod squeezed the syringe slightly that he injected him with previously. "This holds 25 cc's. You get to have the fun of discovering which one it is."

"You . . . wouldn't kill me," Raines countered him. "Sydney's little do-gooder."

"Honestly, you should be hoping for that," Jarod shared with him. "You're right. That little girl you thought feared you? She isn't weak, and after this, she is going to want to kill you in the slowest and most painful way possible. Killing you like this would be mercy." He leaned more forward. "Do I look like I want to grant you mercy?"

"Fifteen year old little brat . . . is what you _want_ me to believe. You don't _know_ what you're doing!" Raines warned him. "I didn't even have her the whole time."

"I did."

Jarod turned and saw Angelo in the corner, trapped in a dark cage. He looked terrible, like Raines definitely punished him. "You took care of her?"

"For months," Angelo said. "Messed up once." He looked ashamed. "Once all it took."

"Rotten little traitor nabbed her and took her to the tunnels," Raines agreed. "So, no reason to outright paralyze me for months. In total, maybe . . . eight weeks."

"Oh, so I should give you the counter injection and reduce it down for you to suffer less?" Jarod asked Raines.

"Jarod?" Angel interrupted. "She couldn't walk for many months."

"Months?" _More than 5 cc's!_

"Just one. Just in the beginning," Raines covered himself. "I didn't know how interesting she'd been yet."

Dirty. "Sorry, Raines. It doesn't work that way." Jarod took the counter syringe and went over to Miss Parker. She didn't need much, but it would help give her back enough spark to wake up and it should restore some mobility. The rest would come with time.

"Miss Parker okay?" Angelo asked as he came closer.

"She'll be good as new soon." _Thank goodness. _Angelo helped hide her. He was afraid she might have been damaged by Raines but as soon as she mentioned him dancing on Sesame Street, he knew she was okay.

Looks like Raines did want to keep her for The Centre. Too bad that would never happen.

* * *

**Miss Parker Remembers: The original time of the 90's and going back in time to 1973. She was kidnapped by Raines, taken care of by Angelo mostly and Jarod had rescued her.**

**Jarod: ****The original time of the 90's and going back in time to 1973. He has saved Miss Parker from Mister Raines.  
**

**Broots: Not Here Yet.**


	13. Keys and a heart

**Jarod's Car**

Miss Parker started to open her eyes. She didn't want to. She'd rather just die. "Try . . . see it . . ." However, as she opened her eyes she saw a pretty view. The outside. _Did I do it?_ She even felt her hair blowing in the wind. She pulled her grimy hair away and looked to the side of her.

He'd grown. Not so baby face. An earlier version of the Jarod of the future, especially with the clothes. He wasn't trying to blend in any more, he even wore a leather jacket and shades similar to his old ones. Yet, she could definitely tell it was still him. The young Jarod. "I didn't do it."

There was a big old smirk on his face as he took off his shades. "Hey, you're up."

"Yeah." She looked around herself. Fancy car with no top. "Sorry. A little confused. I thought I was in the middle of being tortured?"

"You were, but I canceled that appointment for you," he teased right back. "Good to see you are still your old self. Are you okay?"

"Guess so." She propped herself up, feeling more of her energy back. _He reversed the weakness. Good boy, Jarod. _Still. He should know. "I can't do it. I've tried." Oh, how she tried. Between Angelo and the tunnels. Between all that time alone with herself in Raine's little cell. She tried so hard. She only didn't try, when Raines was making her try. He wanted to send her somewhere she never wanted to go.

"I know," Jarod answered back. "Your mom got stuck too, according to mine. Maybe it is just a one way trip."

She felt him touch her hand. She still felt too out of it to care. "Where exactly are we going?"

"Hello Miss Parker! Better?"

Huh? She glanced behind her and saw Angelo sticking his head out from the back. "Saved him too as a bonus, Jarod? You never took him before."

"I saw signs on him that showed that Raines wasn't happy about his meddling." Jarod didn't go into much more detail. He didn't need to. "He's just a kid. I can't leave him in there either. He's hard to place, but there's one place for him." Oh no. It was coming with that smirk. "Besides, he's your boyfriend, isn't he? Sorry I didn't get the memo on that one."

She rolled her eyes. "He isn't."

"You're my princess," Angelo said to her. "And Raines said that-"

"Okay, let's skip the Raines explanation," Jarod interrupted holding his hand slightly up. "Miss Parker probably already wants to kill him."

"Not much of a probably." She leaned back in the chair and tried to move her top arms. Not quite yet. "Angelo, for the final time. Not girlfriend."

"Princesses give kisses to heroes on the head," Angelo reasoned. "Girlfriends kiss boyfriends."

"Girlfriends kiss girlfriends too. There's a different kind of fairytale for you."

"Oh. Did you kiss girlfriends too, Miss Parker?" Angelo asked.

She just chuckled, but . . . she still wasn't there at better. She just watched the scenery pass for a few more minutes. "Where are you taking me to now?"

"We'll cover that," Jarod said. "I have to talk to someone first. Just get some rest."

Always. _Rest is good. Rest is real good._

"Jarod?" Angelo's voice was fading away, while she faded. "Are you crying?"

* * *

Jarod already knew this wasn't going to be an easy task, but he wasn't quite ready for what he did run into. He had sent Sydney in to read and watch Raines, but Jarod wanted to just track Raines, on the off chance he led him to her after stealing his life savings. Raines did, but while Jarod heard them talk, he also knew he needed to move faster. By the time he even got in the room she was already injected again. There was just no time, he had to improvise. He had told Sydney though to make sure he had an alibi just in case anything happened.

After the small simple talk between them, Jarod could barely hold it together. He was using all of his skills to act like everything was normal. Seeing her, as Little Miss Parker, in that position. In that cruelty. It was hard to stand. _Just get through it. She's safe now. She won't want coddled, you know her! It'll make her feel worse. Just get through it. Just ask the questions you need, necessary requirements only. You've been through worse. You've seen worse, Jarod! Keep it together and just get through it._

* * *

**Hotel**

As it ran into evening, Jarod pulled into a hotel. He was going to need darkness to sneak her in though. "Angelo? I need you to do me the biggest favor ever." He gestured to Miss Parker "If anyone comes over and talks to you or her, yell and then fight." He wasn't taking chances. "I promise I'll come. Okay? This won't take long."

"Miss Parker needs shower," Angelo said.

"Yeah." Angelo was smarter than a lot of people gave him credit for.

"I couldn't give her shower," Angelo admitted. "I didn't know how. Boy and girl. She couldn't walk."

"Not blaming you. If it wasn't for you, Buddy, she'd be even worse." He tried to give him a great smile. "Few minutes."

A few minutes exactly. Jarod couldn't leave her alone, he couldn't bring her out in public with the way she looked, but he couldn't leave her in the car alone. As fast as he could get through the check in, the better.

"She's still sleeping," Angelo said as Jarod came in on the other side.

"I know." Jarod opened the door. Angelo hopped out, and like last time, they both helped her up. She was unconscious again, like last time they put her in the car.

"Jarod? Hotel for adults," Angelo mentioned as they started to carry her together.

"For her safety, don't mention your age," Jarod said to him. "I have this covered. Let's just get her to the bathroom, okay?"

When they got her to the room, Jarod laid her in the bathtub. At no point during the conversation when she was awake did he even mention how terrible she looked. She was foul smelling, her breath could kill, she had cigarette burns on her arms, and he could imagine the amount of cavities building up inside of her mouth.

"Raines. He visited her," Angelo said. Jarod didn't stop his talking, just listened. It might help or it might not. "Interested in boy. Ethan. Interested in boy. Kyle. Interested in the pretty lady. Her mother. Kept playing . . . elevator music. Kept bringing out pretty perfume."

"He was trying to trigger her to do that too." Raines. From their conversation. His curiosities. _He wants her to remember a time to travel back to. _Jarod sat on the toilet. "I didn't find out about Ethan for so long after The Centre at all. Kyle, it took time to find him. No one should have known about him, where he was, or anything." His future knowledge as well as hers they couldn't possibly have had. It was showing, and unfortunately, Raines knew about it. At some point, Catherine Parker must have trusted him enough to share it. Just like she trusted him with her secret about being alive and having Ethan.

Jarod looked back toward Angelo. "I have to go call Sydney. Can you watch her?" He nodded and Jarod got back up.

The Centre wouldn't be happy with Sydney leaving, but they'd only track an old team member for so long. Since he should have a good alibi, they couldn't lay any blame on him. But, that still left him one big problem. "Sydney. Did you have a good alibi? Good." Jarod continued talking to him. "I have her. It wasn't smooth at all. I have a second problem too." Jarod looked back toward the bathroom at Angelo. "I took Angelo."

"Angelo is with you? Raines has been asking for him in his sleep. Jarod, Angelo isn't-"

"I know. Only someone that knows about him can watch him," Jarod said, beating him to the punch. "Only person qualified enough around here is . . . you," he admitted. "I am going to give you a list of what you'll need to give him. You find it in the future. It was helping. He won't be empathic anymore when he finishes the treatment. So? You need to take him."

"But, Jarod. Why did you take him in the first place? Angelo shouldn't be-"

"I can't judge," Jarod said. "I won't say who goes in or who comes out. I took him because he needed out. Raines was hurting him, Sydney! He kept Miss Parker safe for ten months straight. He fed her. He moved her. If it wasn't for him, she'd probably be dead, even if she did escape on her own somehow."

" . . . what am I supposed to say, Jarod? Wasn't Miss Parker dangerous enough to take? I."

Yeah. Jarod knew that was coming. He leaned his head against the hotel wall, beating it once. He had to work fast. He had to save Miss Parker, but he couldn't just leave Angelo there. He had a chance at a future, a real chance at a future he missed last time. "Timmy needs a home. Only you can give him a home. His real name is Timmy," Jarod said slowly. "If you ask him about it, he'll say Timmy is dead. He was once a normal little boy, Sydney. Catherine Parker tried to see him, and then the next day Raines turned him into Angelo." Come on.

"I don't see how anyone else will be able to understand Angelo," Sydney finally relented. "I can't give him the world, Jarod."

"You will." Jarod smiled, knowing he won. "Give him what I tell you and when, and he'll be Timmy again. He'll still remember you and everything you did for him. He'll be good. Please?"

"I am finding Michelle and Nicholas. I've never even seen him before. Bearing in mind that, it's going to be hard enough . . ."

"Angelo," Jarod said. "Just, Angelo."

"Then what about Miss Parker?"

Jarod got away from the wall and walked around slightly. He couldn't get too far with the short chord on the phone, about half the distance of the room. "Catherine Parker trusted Raines. She trusted him over her husband. She trusted him over her pregnancy. Catherine Parker trusted him enough that . . ." He hated to say it. "Raines knows about her inner sense capabilities. Time travel."

"My. Goodness. Are you sure, Jarod?"

"He was forcing Miss Parker to listen to the elevator music of The Centre, and to smell her mom's perfume," Jarod said. "When I talked to him, he didn't say it out loud, but he hinted. Especially when he said 'fifteen year old little brat is what you want me to believe' after I wiped the floor with him."

"I don't believe it. Raines knows."

"Yeah, and I think Ethan's creation had something to do with it," Jarod admitted. "My mom seemed to know what was going on. My dad doesn't have a single clue. I can't explain it, but my mom said some people just remember. It's not inner sense it's a . . ."

"I don't have a key," he heard weakly from the bathroom. "No protector, no key. Leave me alone."

"I have to go, Sydney. I'll get Angelo to you soon." He hung up and went in. She was dreaming.

"Don't worry," Angelo told him. "Always dreams that. Raines haunts her."

"She said key." His mom mentioned a key. Briefly. He sat down next to the bathtub. "How are people chosen as keys?"

"Key and heart," she slurred. "Not with me. Heart."

"Key and heart, Jarod." Angelo stroked her messy hair. "He haunts her. He haunts me. He haunts her."

"That video she watched of her mom," Jarod reasoned. "She _mus_t have said something to her." Probably didn't make much sense at first, but with Raines bothering her, maybe it shook something loose. He gave her a small shake, to see if she was ready to wake up.

"Oh gaw," she groaned. Her eyes opened and she looked around. "Where the hell am I?"

"A bathtub," Angelo answered.

"Oh thank goodness." She tried to pull herself up. She couldn't. She was trying with her feet. "Just."

Jarod knew she hated it, but he helped to pull her up.

"I already know that I smell like a muddy elephant bathed in the vomit of old rotting fish." She looked above her. "Just turn it on already."

Jarod obliged. Cold at first but it quickly warmed up. He watched all of the clean water emerge as dirt by the drain. _Angelo had an excuse for this, Raines didn't. Couldn't risk getting caught. _"I need to ask you some questions. You think you can stay up long enough to answer them?"

* * *

_Questions. _Of course he had questions. Right now though, she was just soaking up the ability to even get clean. It tore at her heart how long it had been since she was able to bathe. Clean her face. Wash her hands. Brush her teeth. Her mind raced back to those nice, relaxing baths she used to have in her home. Her nice, clean clothes. Oh, to have one of those again. She could feel the grime trying to slack off of her. Getting soaked in her clothes with two guys watching wasn't really her thing, but she'd rather they be there. Her balance was terrible, but she knew Jarod would catch her in seconds if she lost it. Angelo had been used to catching her too.

Besides, it wasn't exactly a wet T-shirt contest. She was a grimy, filthy mess that probably covered up all the facts whether she was a boy or girl anyway. _Water, water, water._

"Key and heart," Jarod asked her. "Did your mom ever say anything about that? You keep talking about it in your sleep."

Oh. "I'm heart," she said. "You're key. Solved." _Water, water, water._

"Raines always asked," Angelo said. "Never said that."

"Never would." _Such good water._

"Ethan," Jarod continued asking. "Is . . . is that what he was trying to get? A key or a heart? Was my mom a key to your mom?"

Too many questions. Just, water. "Before the video began my mother talked about some stuff. It didn't even make sense_ until_ Raines." Not that she was thanking him in any way. "The heart is the one who travels in time, and the keys are the ones that remember. Just showy and pretty words though because obviously the heart can remember too. Yeah, your mom was a key, Jarod." She tried to lift her arms to run it through the dirty oils of her hair. "Raines was a key too."

"Raines?" Jarod didn't speak for a bit. "My mom was it. Raines was it. One key. I thought it was one key? No one else remembers but me and you."

"Oh, geez, ugh." She just wanted to enjoy the water. What was with all the questions? And food. boy, did she need food. She needed food before she got too tired again.

"She needs food," Angelo said. He knew her well. "She gets tired quick, Jarod. If she eats food, she'll sleep two hours and then good. Otherwise."

"Sleeps all night," Jarod said almost bitterly. "I get it. I'll get food."

Fine, fine. She could hear that he wanted answers now. As long as food was coming. "A key is the person most involved in a change usually. Jarod said it himself, 300,000 spared. Jarod became a key. With mom, she changed her own things with Raines."

"My mom though, she was the key," Jarod said. "You get two keys?"

"Yes." As she said that, Jarod grabbed her arms. What was he doing? _Oh. _He was holding them up to her head. She could rub her own scalp now. _Yes. Yes, yes, yes._

"Angelo. Not understand." He looked toward Jarod. "You get keys?"

"What is Raines going for." Not really a question, a thought out loud. "Your mom wasn't murdered in the elevator; she staged it in the elevator. What is he trying to do?"

"Look," she said honestly. "I have tried to return to 2019 several times, and he's tried to make me go even farther backward. Personally, no one's winning. My body is numb."

"Angelo's girlfriend," Angelo reminded Jarod.

Her ears were surprised by the shout of Jarod.

"Of course!" Jarod hit his hand like it was some wild discovery. Trademark of Sydney on him after all those years. "That's what Raines wanted. If he couldn't get you to do it that way, he was going to make you . . . sensitive like Angelo." He was being nice. "Your mom couldn't do it anymore. He thought he'd get it back with Ethan, knowing there was a connection to_ my_ parents. Better chances. She must have told him there was a connection to one of my parents."

But didn't tell him which. Yes. She figured that out some time ago. She looked down and saw the water starting to lighten up in color. If she could just hold herself she could have a real bath soon.

"He'll never stop coming for you."

Nice sentiment.

"No, I mean it," Jarod said. "He won't. He let Catherine have you as her own. He thought that would make you weak, being raised by a kind woman. Lyle was kept in a cage. Dark. Limited. Probably on his authority. To see if he could be strong enough to be the heart. Ethan was harnessed too, for his control. Raines has been trying to get back time travel this whole time."

_This water is already starting to get cold. _Nothing new so far, but Jarod was catching up. Food, that's what she wanted to be new.

"But your mom, she must have started to suspect things. She showed you how to do it." Jarod crossed his arms. "Is there anything at all about the process she used that was different?"

"I don't know." Food. "Like I said a million times before, I didn't even know that's what she was doing. I just followed a video."

"You never knew it was happening. Maybe there's something to that. A completely relaxed state. That's why he was trying to befriend Ethan. But why would . . ."

That was his thing, the solving it all out thing. Her thing was the water dripping down over her, turning colder, and her stomach lightly starting to growl thing. Then, he surprised her when he kicked the bathroom door. That was a frustration move. That wasn't good.

"He doesn't care about the elevator!" Jarod realized. "Oh, no, no. That slimeball, he wants to correct his mistake with Ethan! He still thought that it was _my _dad and_ your _mom, a perfect strong combo to time travel, but he'd be successful if he kept her alive this time. Oh. Sorry."

_Water. Food. _"Newfound knowledge, Jarod?"

"Yeah. The fact her daughter could travel, but _he_ wasn't the key anymore. He picked the wrong pony." Yep, Jarod was getting it. "He thought you were a weaker little girl. He didn't know the real you underneath."

"Wanting key," Angelo agreed with Jarod. "Miss Parker hungry."

_That's my boy. _She'd probably have to wait until Jarod-

"He wants to go back for something, but what?"

"He was going to kill Daddy," she finally joined into the conversation. "He wants Ethan back, to travel back, to kill Daddy and get the Centre. He thinks in his head Ethan can work it."

"The worst off the candidate is, the worst it has to be. He can't just knock off your dad when he is in his fifties and sixties, he has to murder him while he's young. It'll make him look better. Parker tradition."

"I. Hate. Tradition."

"But, we've got a problem," Jarod pointed out. "A really big one. He probably knows I'm the key now."

Oh. _He did not just say that._ Please no. If he did? "What did you squeal, Jarod?"

"Even Sydney didn't believe me easily with all the proof, I didn't think I'd have to be that careful," Jarod said like the idiot he had always been underneath the genius. "My brothers were taken and there was no way of me knowing about it, unless I knew from the future. I sort of let onto putting a date on something with the money I stole too."

" . . . I don't care. What's it matter? I can't do it. I've tried, and I can't do it! I've smelled her perfume all day around me, I've heard that elevator music on repeat a million times, I just can't-!"

Scared. Shameful. Frustrated. Regret. Relief. So many emotions flooded her when she eventually gave out, like always. Angelo was always ready, but she was never standing as straightened up. She had always been slouching or crawling for him. Jarod was the one who reached her first. Then Angelo. Each of them held her as the world begun to spin. "This isn't . . . how I pictured . . ."

"It's okay, Miss Parker, we got you!" Jarod's voice came from her side. "I'll go get food. Shoot, I should have done that sooner."

She closed her eyes, trying to find some kind of strength. "My first threesome in a tub." Out.

* * *

"No food," Angelo said to Jarod. "She won't wake up again."

"She will," Jarod said confidently as he moved her out of the bathtub. He went and grabbed the two fresh towels the hotel had. "You start drying her feet. I'll dry from the top." Shoot. He was putting important pieces together in his mind, the food was put on the backburner. As he dried her off, he saw part of his tattoo sticking out. Never Leave Miss. "Already messing up." He continued to try and dry her off. A lot of the dirt had peeled off of her, but the towels were still filthy. If it wasn't so dangerous, he'd give her more of the counter drug. _She'll be back to normal tomorrow. She'll be able to bathe herself and even walk. Just, not tonight._

When he dried her off as best as he could, he left her in the bathroom with Angelo. It would keep her warmer. "I'm going to get her some food."

"She'll be too tired, Jarod."

"Don't worry. I'll get her to wake up."

* * *

**Miss Parker Remembers: The original time of the 90's and going back in time to 1973. Jarod rescued her.**

**Jarod: ****The original time of the 90's and going back in time to 1973. He's rescued Miss Parker.**

**Broots: Not Here Yet**


	14. Deep Inner Sense

**Author's Note: This chapter and the next are the marks to some serious concepts coming in on time travel now.**

**Hang on!**

* * *

**Hotel**

Miss Parker smelled the scent of a hamburger in front of her. A familiar greasy one from the work she used to do. _Food. _Still tired, but she opened her eyes. She was still hungry.

"There you are," Jarod greeted her. He had the hamburger in her hands, next to her mouth. "Eat and don't worry. Last night of this. I gave you the counter drug some time ago, you'll be okay. Give it a few more hours, and you'll have almost complete control of your arms. You'll even be able to take a bath tomorrow."

"Thank. You." She started eating the hamburger, scrunching it down as she could. While she did that though, she started to have visions. Inner sense was kicking in. Just like when she saw the explosion of the train, with Ethan grabbing her hand as her mother. So long ago.

Was she daydreaming of the past or the future?

* * *

_**INNER SENSE DAYDREAMING SEQUENCE**_========================================

**"Thank. You." She started eating the hamburger, scrunching it down as she could. "Might as well. Last meal."**

**"Last meal?" Jarod questioned her. "What do you mean?"**

**"I was going to try and run. I was going to demand you give me some money for all the trouble I went through. You know, pity money. I knew you had it." She looked back at the hamburger. "I needed a shower and food though. Afterwards when I was better, figure something out. At least a few hours ahead but it doesn't matter anymore. Raines isn't in the dark, he knows you're a key, Jarod. That means he'll know it's me."**

**"You don't have to run, I can help," Jarod insisted. "Really. This time I can."**

**"He likes experiments. You know that, Jarod. Raines put something inside me. It's slow processing, but it keeps ticking. New tech he never tested. You know how he is with wanting to test stuff." She was losing it. "He'll track me forever, Jarod. Eventually catching me. Give me the gun that you must be carrying and lay it on the pillow beside me."**

**"What?" Jarod was confused. "No."**

**"Lay it on the pillow and go, Jarod. Run." _Please don't make it harder on me._**

**"No! No, we'll work something out," Jarod insisted. "Look, it'll be okay. We can um, we can . . ." He started to touch her. "In an arm? In a leg?"**

**"Jarod!" Angelo started to freak out. "They'll come! They'll come! I don't want to saw off her leg!"**

**"No, no, Angelo. Relax, we aren't doing that," Jarod insisted. "Never. Never, never. There wouldn't be any guarantee it was there. It could be anywhere, that's not the solution." Jarod looked around. "We just need to jam the frequencies. It's primitive, it has to be. He can't know anything about reliable GPSing or anything, can he?"**

**"Jarod!" Angelo yelled again.**

**"Jarod," she repeated. "He traveled with mom. He probably knows GPSing, and he put it in me. Gun. Pillow. Get out. I am not going out the same way my mother went."**

**"No! There's? I just need to understand it," he insisted. "You can't give up. We, um, we can get out and run. It probably only tracks so far, he'll have to be close to find you. Angelo, give me a hand, we need to carry her back to the car."**

**"No!" She screamed at Jarod. "No, Jarod! No. No." She closed her eyes. "I don't want to do this anymore. How are you going to know a safe distance and figure out what he did? Even I don't know! I was. I was." She breathed slowly. What a way to go. "I wasn't _always_ Miss Parker with him. I was . . ."**

**"Little Miss Parker," Jarod finished for her.**

**"I can't risk it, I don't want to. I'm too young to be out looking like this. I thought maybe some hope? He still didn't know what to believe, but if he knows you're the key. Game over. He'll track me for life, and I am not letting him turn me into his little experiment. I'm not."**

**"Sydney-"**

**"I'll just run if you do it. I won't let him get involved." Never. "Leave the gun. Take the cannoli."**

**"That's a Godfather quote," Jarod said. "I know that one."**

**She smiled at him. "Good for you, Boy Wonder. I won't risk going out like her. Please?"**

**"I can't leave. I just. I can't leave you like this." Jarod slumped his head on the bed. "There needs to be a way to scan to find it."**

**"I just really wanted a shower, I'm sorry," she apologized. "Didn't know I'd go out. Nap was pushing it, Boys. Go. Leave the gun on the pillow next to me and just go."**

**"Jarod!" Angelo cried out again. "Jarod! Jarod!"**

**"I don't have time to play suicide watch for you, let's go!" Jarod insisted as he started to grab her. She wouldn't help him though, she was using her legs to put up a fight. "Do you want us to all get caught? I'm not leaving you and you know I will never put a gun on that pillow."**

**"Jarod!" Angelo screamed again. He wasn't able to concentrate enough, his emotions were rolling.**

**"Jarod. You have exactly what you wanted," she tried to reason with him. "I have changed what I _needed_ to change. Don't be stupid. Run." Against her will, her eyes were filling with tears. "I gave up my family for _yours_, don't abuse it, just go!" She admitted it. She finally admitted it. It wasn't just her mother's unfinished business. She felt Jarod wrapping his arms around her. "Forget the cute little face and voice you hear, and just go. I'm still Miss Parker, I'm still the *****that never gives up, so just go!"**

**"Jarod, coming, they're coming!" Angelo yelled as he ran around the room hysterically.**

**"They aren't coming yet, we have time," Jarod insisted. "You do too. You can't just give in." He pointed at Angelo. "I'll go check outside if you promise to stop yelling." He went outside to start checking the perimeter.**

**She heard the sound of a heavy object hitting the opposite pillow and a held up muffled scream from Angelo. Probably covering his mouth. _Good boy. _Angelo feared Raines. He'd give in for her. She should have asked him to flip her, but he was in too much anguish. That would have twisted the knife. Using her pelvis and legs, she managed to turn herself around. Angelo had been hysterical in his emotions, they hadn't come yet. But they would.**

**She looked at the gun on the pillow. "Thanks for the 'bunny', Angelo." Simply dumb old cartoon joke from that show Family Guy in her original time. But then? "Thanks for the real bunny, Jarod." Bringing her hands up was a slow process. Even getting it to herself wasn't going to be easy. She had to do it to herself though before Jarod came back. She wouldn't be used for Raines purposes. Never.**

**A picture of Jarod over the rabbits came back into her head. She felt a sense of peace in herself. It was all over now. She could just live in that moment. That moment before she lost everything. That moment when she still had her innocent youth, inside and outside. The only thing she wanted from the world was so simple back then. Just to see the rabbits. Just to feel their soft fur. Their funky little smell. Just to hear his sweet voice to her before he knew her role to play in his future. His eyes before he ever knew she did anything wrong. When they were both innocent.**

**Both, uncorrupted and untarnished . . .**

**December 20, 1969**

**She was looking down at the rabbits. The Rabbits. She could smell the rabbits, and see the rabbits? "I didn't." She never could before. _There's no way._ She looked across from her at Jarod. Ten year old Jarod. Not an innocent look of innocence, a look of terror. "Jarod?"**

**"No." He shook his head. "What did you do? Get me out of here!"**

**But she couldn't, and she remembered. Someone was coming. Someone was coming. "Sorry!"**

**"Miss Parker, get me out of here!"**

**She could hear his pleas, but she couldn't do that yet. There was a turning point to even have a chance to pull it off and-**

**"Don't run."**

**She froze as she heard his voice. The voice of a man that tortured her as a child, with and without memories. _Raines. _She kept running. How? How did she do it? Raines tortured her with scents and elevator music. She tried so hard to concentrate on her coffee and the stale smell of her office in 2019. She tried every second that she could spare, oh she tried so much! And yet. Jarod. Rabbits. Why?**

**"Little Miss Parker, behave yourself."**

**She looked around the corner. There. Alive and stellar beautiful. "Momma?" Her mother came over to her and scooped her up into her arms. "Momma!"**

**"Are you okay?" Her mother asked. "It's okay. We're going home."**

**Jarod's Apartment**

**"It is a little unorthodox, Mrs. Parker, but if Mister Parker says so . . ."**

**Jarod watched as Catherine Parker approached him. Miss Parker's mother. He didn't know how to react. Part of him wanted to ask a world of questions, while the other just wanted to demand all the answers.**

**"A moment alone?" Catherine insisted to Sydney.**

**"I'm not supposed to leave Jarod alone, ever," Sydney told her.**

**"Cameras running all the time. What harm?" She tried again. "Sydney. This is _important._"**

**She won. Catherine Parker was a determined woman. A good woman too. Jarod watched her sit down in front of him.**

**"Don't say anything," she warned him. "Say anything without me asking and I get up and leave. Is that clear, young man?"**

**He nodded. She wasn't risking any changes in her future.**

**"You are a potential key to the heart," she told him. "Do you understand what that means?"**

**"The one that remembers."**

**"No," she corrected him. "More people can remember. Relationship to a key can give the gift to remember, but the key? The key is everything. The key is the heart's guide."**

**"Video voice." Jarod watched her notably shudder. "Sorry."**

**"Stop!" she warned him. "Behave yourself, Jarod. Every word you utter past this time is bad for me," she revealed. "So please be careful what you say." She rubbed her neck. "It's fine," she insisted. "Travel won't move on the owner's command alone. Random. People, buildings, reputations, everything can be destroyed or created but the more random, the worse it will become. So?" She smiled to him. "It's best to leave that inner sense to the imagination. Don't you think?"**

**What? "No. No!" He shook his head vehemently. "Why do we have to live through everything the same way? I don't want that! I don't! I want-!"**

**"Something better," she said for him.**

**"I was getting something better . . ." He laid his head down. "Until I screwed up. I had no choice there, but if I just had never left her in the first place." He looked back to her. "Can I get a second chance?" **

**She leaned down to meet his head on the table with hers. "You'll have the memories. At first. As you get older, they'll fade into basic dreams and nightmares."**

**No. He reached out his hand to her arm. "I barely saw mom the first time. I missed so much. I can help so many if you spare me, please?!" **

**She reached out with her own hand. "Jarod. The Triumvirate Trust doesn't come around until you are older. It is the _only_ chance to break you out."**

**"You're going to die right after he's born," Jarod provoked her. He wasn't doing it, he wasn't spending those years in The Centre quietly killing people with his sims until then!**

**"Jarod!" She stood up.**

**"You're going to stage your death and you'll ruin Miss Parker forever by seeing it in the elevator!"**

**"Stop!"**

**"And you share with her how to change everything, but nothing changes!" He smacked his fists on the table. "She just took me back to_ feel_ what it felt like to have my family back, only to throw me in here and relive it all over again! I thought it was all over now!" Ten years old. "Why can't I just have them? Why do I have to sacrifice everything, or she does?" He was driving her to tears now.**

**"You?" She wiped her eyes. "Your mind is older, but you have the patience of a rowdy ten year old! You have a lot of growing up to do, Jarod."**

**Jarod felt tears come to his eyes all over again. He was trapped in a hell that never ended. "I'm sorry for making you cry. I just-"**

**"You can't get everything, Jarod, there is _no_ perfect life." She stood up. "Remember that, no matter what, something always has to give. Always! She is far enough away in two days you won't remember. Your mind will go on without the burden of knowing." She squeezed the purse in her hand. "I will have to get this whole conversation off the archive now, as if I didn't have enough problems." She fanned herself. "There are two keys, Jarod, and only one can have the heart. Remember that. And I know the 'he' you are speaking of too." She gestured toward her head. "I must go."**

**"But-"**

**"Two days, Jarod, then it's over for the stress on your mind." She smiled at him. "You are going to be okay. I know it's a wait, but it'll be okay. Trust me. I've been through long waits too." She turned back around and left him there.**

**Jarod just whimpered as he ducked his head on the table again.**

**1970 Forest House**

**Ten. It was a number. It was an age. It was nothing more. Miss Parker could feel the heaviness in the gun against her delicate frame but that didn't matter. Getting a ride to the forest house also wasn't easy. Ten year olds should never do those things, but it was just a number. She held the gun close, her eyebrows raised. Today was it. He was going to pay. For all the torture and all the fear he made her feel. For what he would do to her mother. Everything. She would clear out that room. They all worked for The Centre. Every one of them was disposable.**

**As quietly as she had always been trained, with a little more trouble considering her size, she took her vantage points into consideration, with the main kahuna right within her sights.**

**Ten year old Miss Parker took out Raines just as he was about to see her mother with Ethan. The art of surprise was also on her side as the others didn't even fight back. **

**Her mother screamed as she saw her daughter, covered in bloody spots. She walked forward and checked the others. They didn't even have guns. "No biggie. They would have done the same thing to me, Momma." She moved toward her mother.**

**The expression on her face with Ethan in her hands. She didn't even say anything to her.**

**Miss Parker looked at Ethan, than back at her mother. That petrified look. "You and Ethan will be okay now, Momma."**

**Then, she felt her mother's sting against her own cheek. She winced and felt the pain. Her mother. "I had to! You don't know what they would have . . ." Her mother slapped her. _Her_ mother. The most forgiving, loving, closest thing to infallible in her eyes woman who ever lived had showed contempt.**

**Hatred.**

**Toward her.**

**Miss Parker closed her eyes . . .**

* * *

**Miss Parker Remembers: The original time of the 90's and going back in time to 1973. She also starts to realize that this isn't the first time she's time traveled. Her memory is interrupting her, showing her that she tried to commit suicide but wished to see Jarod and the rabbits again and was taken back to a younger age. She also seems to see Jarod's side of the events, and she doesn't know how. She killed Raines to save Ethan too in the past. Her memory is still going . . .  
**

**Jarod: ****The original time of the 90's and going back in time to 1973. He rescued Miss Parker.  
**

**Broots: Not Here Yet**


	15. 2001: Remember Paris

_**STILL IN DAYDREAMING SEQUENCE . . .**_

**2001: ****Paris**

**Miss Parker opened her eyes and looked to the sky. She could hear music nearby that wouldn't be playing in America. She looked at herself. She was nowhere close to ten years old now. More like mid or late thirties. She turned and looked around. "Okay, what is going on?" She looked around the area. She was in a nice garden outside. She spotted a little boy, about a year old, toddling near her. He looked up and smiled at her showing her a rock he found. "Hello there? Who are you?"**

**He laughed at her.**

**She tried to spot his parents around them. "Where are your parents?" He laughed again. "Okay?" She examined herself. It was nothing close to what she used to wear. Light and airy, a beautiful Parisian dress. That was something her mother would wear, not her. "Let's try something different, kid." She switched to the French language. "Comment tu t'appelle?"**

**"Jamie."**

**Great, a name. Why'd she ask, that didn't help. "Où est ton mère?"**

**He laughed and pointed at her.**

**"That's real funny, kid." She touched the top of her forehead, forgoing any more French. It wasn't going to help.**

**"Honey, what are you doing out here?" Broots was approaching from behind her. "Are you okay? You seemed a little out of it earlier. Don't worry about Jarod's threats, its fine." He touched her shoulder affectionately. "I promise, its okay."**

**Honey? Broots? The computer man she had once worked with? Hunted Jarod with? _I'm going crazy._ "Why the hell are you calling me that, Broots?" She gestured toward the kid. "That yours?"**

**"Oh, that's not a funny joke right now," he warned her. "Really it's not. Jamie Jamison is ours." He gestured between them.**

**"Ours?" Her eyes went wide and she quickly looked at her finger for a wedding ring. "There's nothing on this finger."**

**"Well, no," he admitted. "You won't take me as a husband. But? It's still okay. One day?" He smiled at her lovingly. "One day we'll get past this, and you won't be Charity Jamison anymore. You'll be Charity Broots. So?" He gestured toward her. "Just come on back to the house." He looked around frantically. "Okay. Let's just grab Jamie and go." He picked up the little boy and tried to hold her hand to go in.**

**_Charity Broots? Who the freak is Charity? _She was not budging. "Broots? What the hell is going on?" She tried taking steps back instead.**

**"No. No, no, no, you'll get worse that way, come on!" Broots motioned for her to move toward the house. A big, beautiful manor. "Come on, inside with Jamie! Come on, Charity. Look? Who's _always_ been the one taking care of you? Don't you remember?"**

**"I knew it."**

**Miss Parker turned around and saw Jarod. He at least dressed normal in the way he usually did. In fact, he was about the most normal thing in the world right now.**

**"I knew you'd be here." Jarod's eyes were so soft to her. The softest she'd ever seen his eyes before at that age toward her. "Walk this way, Miss Jamison."**

**"No, this way!" Broots motioned for her to come with him again. "This way!"**

**Miss Parker put out a hand toward each of them, in a stopping manner. "Hang on! I just joined Crazyville! Give me two seconds! What the hell is going on?!"**

**"You live here, with me, and your mother," Broots said gently. "Remember? We have a kid together. You and I?" He gestured between them.**

**"I?" Her hands moved in closer to her frame. _Okay, let's go with the less scarier thing right now. _ She turned toward Jarod. "You were rescued, Jarod, I know you had to be?"**

**Jarod took a deep breath and held his hands out peacefully toward her as he took another step forward. "I know you're confused. My presence is bringing the _real_ you back, Miss Jamison. Or is it, Miss Parker?"**

**"Miss Parker." Well. There was her correct name.**

**"You live with your mom, but you never married Broots for a reason." Jarod pointed at Broots. "He conceived that baby without _your_ input, breaking your mother's code!"**

**"It was for good! It was for good," Broots assured her. "Really, Charity, we needed Jamie. You didn't want to remember the bad memories. How can I honestly ask if you don't want to remember? And, and wow, it's not as vicious as he said. It was _mutual_. Several times. We love each other."**

**"Miss Parker wasn't present. She hasn't been present for thirty years." Jarod looked mad enough to draw out his gun. "You know it and I know it. Look at her. She has no idea what's going on. You made her into the woman of your dreams, but that wasn't her. Nature verses nurture! You used to be someone good. You _used _to have a good little girl according to your own handwritten notes."**

**"Back off, Jarod!" Broots forcefully grabbed Miss Parker's hand, surprising her.**

**"The hell?!" Parker pulled back farther from Broots. She would have decked him if it wasn't for him carrying an infant, but she did stick her finger toward him. "No one manhandles me, Broots, and you better thank every star in the sky you are holding a brat right now or I would be kicking your ass so hard those same stars would be waving to you as your red ass sails by them!" Wordy but it should have got the point across.**

**"No, stay near," Broots instructed, like that didn't even phase him.**

**"Stop it!"**

**Miss Parker stopped yelling at him as she saw her mother. Catherine Elaine Parker. She was carrying a bag of groceries in her arms. Her hair color was fading, turning into a modern day natural highlight of greys. _Survived. She survived?_**

**Catherine sat the bag of groceries at a small outdoor table. "Both of you are tearing her apart. The rules are clear." She looked toward Jarod. "I'm sorry, Jarod. She can't have two. You were too late."**

**Miss Parker looked back at him. Jarod covered his eyes, like he just heard someone near to him just died.**

**"What is the last thing you remember, Sweetie?" Her mother smiled at her. Paying attention to her.**

**Miss Parker looked toward Broots. She looked back to Jarod who seemed to be trying not to break down. "Um. A um." She squinted her eyes. "I killed Raines and you slapped me."**

**"That was back in 1970!" Jarod complained to her mother. "I knew it. That's not fair, Catherine Jamison, she hasn't been able to live as herself!"**

**"Why . . ." Miss Parker said, with grit in her voice. "Do I feel like I'm a squandered prize of some sort?"**

**"I've taken care of you," Broots assured her. "Really. I mean look at our beautiful house. I um, I made you happy in America when we were smaller. And now? We share a son, that we both love. That's . . . there's no stronger dedication." He looked to her mother as well. "I've taken great care of her, Catherine. You know that. Tell her. Please."**

**"He isn't Raines!" Jarod yelled furiously at her mother. "You didn't get a choice with him, Catherine Jamison, you were stuck to him! But this?" He gestured to the baby Broots held. "What do you even want me to call it? Even? Fair?" He licked his bottom lip like it was getting dry as he gestured toward Parker. "She has a choice."**

**"You? No." Broots put his hand out toward Jarod, willing for him to go away as he looked back at Miss Parker. "Don't listen to him, you can't change what happened. I mean you could, but you wouldn't want to, okay?"**

**"Hard to say what she'd want considering _she_ hasn't been here since 1970!" Jarod yelled back at him. He looked toward her. His eyes begging, pleading for her to understand. "I know you don't know me that well," he said slowly to her. He held his hands up slowly. "We met over the rabbits once at The Centre? You wanted to see the rabbits, and I showed how they could still find their . . ." He was fading in his words. "I'm a good person. I am." His breathing was heavier. "You've been sealed away for a very long time. You've come into a world that you don't even know. Trust me, I know what that's like." He took a step closer. "If you can find it in your heart to share it with me? I would be more than happy." He twitched his thumb, like he knew his words were a stretch. "We could."**

**Could what? _I have no idea what he's simpering on about. _Damn, he looked like he just lost Kyle right in front of him again. He was a mess.**

**But that didn't matter. They could argue all they wanted, her main focus was on her mother. Catherine walked over to her and hugged her. For a little while, Miss Parker didn't hug back right away. When she did though, she hugged her tighter.**

**"Catherine," Jarod called her out. "Rules are rules, and you _know_ that's your daughter. Please?"**

**"Your own grandson!" Broots pleaded with her. "You and her, you do so well-"**

**"Me and someone," Catherine said as she tightened her hold on her daughter. "You weren't ready to know the secrets, Broots. I thought you would be good. No past Centre involvement, but it wasn't right either. She wasn't herself." She broke the hug and held Miss Parker's face gently, looking her in her eyes. "I see my daughter again." She gave her one more hug. "Do you smell that, Miss Parker?"**

**Smell?**

**"Mm. It smells warm and delicious. Something much more American than you'll find here. The air is chillier."**

**Miss Parker heard Broots beg for her to wait, but she just held on. She would always hold onto her mother's voice.**

**"It's not fresh. Warmed over but oh so good. It'll take you away from your present thoughts. Thoughts of despair. Disbelief. It's inevitable but you don't wanna . . ."**

**Miss Parker breathed hard. "No. No not there." She could feel it. "Momma. It's not back far . . . it's not back far enough!"**

**"You can't have everything," she whispered to her.**

**"Then I'll take this, fine!" Anything just not her.**

**"Give us a chance!"**

**Jarod's voice again. She opened her eyes rebelliously and looked at him.**

**"I'm. Not a bad guy." He took a single step forward. "I won't squander you, I promise. I just need the memories, to help. Not to hurt. I can help so many with-"**

**"No," her mother stopped him. "Not the right foot, Jarod. If you can't trust in yourself to say what you have to say, she will never try again."**

**"I can feel more . . ." Another step forward. "I've been looking for you for _years_, Miss Parker," he said cautiously. He took a deeper breath. "I have found many things about you. Incredible things. In another time. I . . ."**

**"Shut up." Miss Parker stopped him. He was embarrassing himself. She knew where her mother wanted her to go. "It's not even possible anyhow, Jarod." She knew why he was there, even if she didn't know the time. There was only one thing he kept following her around for. "You're wrong, I do know you well. I hunted you. I studied you. I tried hard to catch you and throw you back into The Centre." He seemed surprised. "Yeah? I'm not some sweet girl you were crushing on over rabbits. Whatever happened, happened." She looked toward a relieved Broots who was waving Jamie's hand. She looked over to her mother. "Like I'd give you up for _anything_. I'd give my life to fulfilling even your last request, momma."**

**"Jarod has traveled a long distance to find you, and gone through incredible strides to get to you," her mother warned her. "Use your inner sense, don't just jump and make judgment. Feel it out, Sweetie. Is this right? What do you feel?"**

**She looked back at Jarod again, and then at Broots, and then at her mother. "I feel . . ." She scrunched her hands together. "Lost. I haven't felt right since . . . the gun on the pillow. I found myself with Jarod at the rabbits, ten years old again. And I just? Lived for a year, figuring out and planning how to save you. I went to the forest house and killed everyone but you and Ethan. I had to, to save you. And you slapped me." She breathed hard, feeling that punch in the gut. "Then I woke up. Here. I don't know where here is, or how I got here."**

**"That's a start."**

**She paid attention to Jarod again as he said that.**

**"Your mom worked with someone to get everyone out. She confided in a third party member," Jarod admitted. "His name was . . . Sydney." His voice was dry. "Seven others and me, we got out of The Centre. You and your mom separated from everyone else. She was concerned about her daughter's welfare having watched you massacre people in front of her at the age of ten." Another step forward.**

**"Stop the forward stepping, that's not fair," Broots insisted.**

**"Ignore him," Jarod answered. "Your mother kept in touch with mine, and then you stopped. You were stolen from your own mother." He gestured firmly with a strong action to Broots. "Your _other_ key decided for you. I was younger and I wasn't ready to understand yet but when I grew older and I searched for the DSA's . . . I just wanted to find you."**

**"For the DSA's," Broots pointed out.**

**"To set it right," Jarod disagreed. "Who are _you_, Miss? Who have you been since 1970?" Jarod slowly stepped forward and extended his hand. "I help people, it's what I do, DSA's or not. I want to help you. Your mind doesn't deserve to stay unlocked against your will." He gestured to Broots again. "You don't deserve to be with anyone who made a baby simply to protect his spot."**

**"That's not true." Broots shook his head and looked back at her. "I wanted him! I really did. I was a great father once, really. I had a daughter and . . . and you were really good friends. I think. You dressed the same? Not all the time."**

**_Debbie. He can't even remember Debbie clearly? _Miss Parker rubbed her face with her whole palm.**

**"He knew I was coming, he's very good with computers," Jarod tried to convince her. "He told you lies about me, warnings, and he kept taking you away until he could seal it with the innocence of a little baby." He banged his hands together. "Key and heart together, that's all he was doing. He may want it now, but he wasn't striving for it until he got scared of me. You deserve to get a fair shot across the board."**

**"Key and heart together?" _Now we're getting somewhere. _She looked at her mother. "Jarod is a key, I knew that. Broots is a key? He sealed me with a baby?" _Raines. That's why he's my father even though mom hated him. _"You wanted to switch, you wanted Jarod's mother for a key, Momma? Didn't you?"**

**Catherine nodded. "My daughter, so smart. I did. I was willing to go through all the pain to switch over, I had been. Then, I was given you. I could have turned back again, but the moment I looked into my little girl's eyes, I _knew_." She closed her eyes as tears welled up. "I just knew. I was never going to part from my gift from God no matter what happened. Jamie is a good boy, but do you feel that way when you look at him?"**

**"Of course she feels it," Broots insisted holding Jamie tightly. "Of course you feel it, right Charity?"**

**"I feel like my head's been smashed harder than that bachelorette party in 1985." She had to admit that. "That's not easy to top, folks." She noticed Jarod's slight smirk "Ethan?" She looked back to her mother. "If Raines had me for that purpose, why Ethan?"**

**"Stronger. Faster. Intelligence. That's what The Centre cared about," Catherine warned her. "Once he had his spot secured with you, he still knew it was my genes verses his unhealthier history. Why settle? He wanted genius too."**

**"He was greedy." Of course. Miss Parker's eyes turned to Broots, then to the baby, then back to Broots. "You're the manipulator, Broots." How? "Why? Ever?"**

**"A better life, I just wanted to give you a better life. I could give that, and I _did_ give you that," he insisted. "We lived happily."**

**"You lived richly, Miss Parker, with someone who sculpted you," Jarod warned her. "There's a difference between that and happiness."**

**"People change through time, through experiences, and Broots was exposed to his future with you too early," her mother said, like she understood her. "Although he is the same DNA, different experiences have shaped him. You_ know_ what different experiences can do to someone? Don't you. Little Miss Parker? Massacring unarmed helpers during a birth?"**

_**I can't. It's impossible. I could never.**_

**"Time is your filly to ride, Honey," her mother said. "Time is free to wander throughout the forest and the mountains as it wills, but when it comes under the branch _you_ sit upon? You can jump down and ride it."**

**Momma's words. Always so elegant, yet she understood them. As much as she tried to elicit a response to travel again, only certain spots were open. "You could travel," Miss Parker said to her mother.**

**"Only one heart at a time." She smiled. "I passed it to you. You will pass it to yours one day. When you know it's the right one."**

**"Jamie is the right one, he is the right one," Broots insisted. "Don't! Please? I've only done what I thought was best, ever for you. I cared. I cared before I knew I even cared- we used to chase that guy!" He insisted to Jarod. "Really!"**

**"Let Broots grow up a bit, find you, and then see how things turn out?" Catherine insisted to her daughter. "I think I see a party you need to attend? Oh. With you and cute little suckers. Then, maybe? A juicy burger, my Little Miss Parker."**

**No. "The primitive GPS, the tracking, that Raines put in me?" Miss Parker had to ask. "It'll track everyone. I'll eventually get caught, or I'll get them caught."**

**"Oh? It's just lies. Raines is very good, and he knows about things. I told him many things, when I thought he just needed a little help. It doesn't mean he can make anything happen." Catherine held her hand. "No world will be perfect, and no time will be perfect."**

**"But you're here. Somehow," Miss Parker said with determination. "Somehow, you're here and you grew old. You stayed with me." Her eyes started to swell again. "You didn't die young."**

**"Did I not? Did I so?" She gave her daughter a light smile. "I am very good at guessing things. I am _very_ good with my senses." She took a deep breath and squeezed her hand. "So just listen to my voice." She whispered. "It's a lovely party. No, it's not. You don't think so? It's boring, but your father won't let you go to a better party."**

**"Because I have to make good grades . . ." Parker looked toward the child Broots held. "Am I destined to have that happen?" Anything to delay her falling into her mother's words.**

**"You'll never have a child that is not with a heart, but you don't have to have a child. You know what children like though?" Her mother asked her. "The taste of very creamy suckers. Unforgettable little stashes, hiding in pockets, while growing boys start to creep."**

**"No, I can't." It didn't matter. "I'll just stay, I don't care." Bamboozled by Broots, it made her sick! But. "I can't. Lose you."**

**"My Little Miss Parker." She stroked the top of her hand. "That gun on the pillow. I've been ready for it for some time. You aren't. You're just ready for a party."**

**_No. No, no, no, no, no. _"You've got no idea-"**

**"You have no idea, either," her mother warned her. "Do you think there are infinite choices? That you control everything in the world? No. You have little moments only," she warned her. "Those moments, the choices later on made because of you, because of others, are what shape everything. But you'll learn what leads to which outcome. Which leads to each puzzle key. What you'll have to give up. Where do you want to be at?"**

**_Anywhere with her in my life. _That's where she wanted to be at and nothing was going to . . .?**

**Miss Parker turned to look at who decided to play music right then. Jarod. _Oh, you have got to be kidding me. _He held a boombox above his head like some 80's teenager and let a love song play. She was debating on finding a gun to put a bullet in that thing! What the hell was Jarod trying to prove? She covered her head. _Okay. Alright. He doesn't know me, let's not kill him right away. _Her mom was in a very deep conversation about things she could barely understand, so why was Jarod choosing that? _Stupid 80's move for boy and girl._**

**Sydney had been way better at deciphering Jarod. Sydney was gone now. Broots certainly wasn't going to help. _Fine. Okay. Classic move with Peter Gabriel. _That wasn't what he was playing though, it was Train's Drops of Jupiter. Why pick a romantic gesture to play Train? Understanding Jarod's thinking at times was excruciating. What the hell was he doing? _Cultural references and moves. What are you trying to say? Can't you just use words?_ It had been some time since she listened to Train. A long time. She heard the words and remembered . . . it wasn't her style of music, but she did stop to listen to that song when she found out why he wrote it. _His mother._**

**Then, she started to sit up straight with a horrifying thought starting to encircle her. She looked toward her mom. If she were alive, why would he pick that song? "How _long_ have I been doing this?" Her mother gave her a sad smile.**

**"I'm not your stop," her mother insisted. "Little Miss Parker. Little Miss Jamison." She gave her daughter a gentle hug. "I'll make sure he doesn't find you, until you need him," she whispered to her. "As sweet as Jarod is?" She smiled. "He's still just a kid. Sweet little Timmy too. Don't make them put a gun on the pillow for another child. My cute little girl. Just walk it off. See what happens." She gave her a kiss on the head. "Now. Who wants to be a big girl with her suckers?"**

**"Why is this happening? I just wanted to do one thing." Her mother's unfinished business. "It's done. By now. I did it before." How many more times?**

**"I never said what it was. You assumed what it was," she answered. "That what I was doing is what I wanted you to complete. I'm not saying you weren't at least half right." She patted her hand. "Give me a moment. Stay here. Don't go to either key, okay? They are both good at heart, and they both have their uses." She winked. "You might find keys are best to jingle together for a time. Right?"**

**Did her momma just say that? "Jingle together?"**

**"Move from one to the other quick enough. Don't get barred to either one," she said. "I'll be back."**

** Parker waited but Jarod and Broots? Both had their eyes on her. She felt like some kind of pirate's treasure they were yearning for. Yet, neither of them said a word to her. She watched her mother come back with a briefcase under her arm.**

**She opened it up and showed Miss Parker. "This is what Jarod wants, right? His DSA's, so he can save people." She closed the briefcase again. "He didn't get it when he got out in this time. Walk to him and give him what he needs. See how he reacts."**

**Yeah, not having his DSA's would bug him to no end. She picked it up and headed toward Jarod. She heard Broots try to follow, but her mother silenced him.**

**When she reached Jarod he sat the big boombox down. She handed him the suitcase. "Here." Done. He wasn't taking it though. "What?"**

**"I would be good to you," he said again. He reached for the briefcase, but kept his hand on top of hers. "You know this isn't right." Then she felt him steal a hug and whisper in her ear. "The story doesn't end this way _either_."**

**What? How much had she gone through? He hadn't seen her since 1970 but he was referencing a lifetime away with that line! 90's. Car. After Carthis Island. How? She looked back toward her mom and to Broots. He looked so nervous. _Hang on. Are they remembering what I know? _She looked back to Jarod. He still wasn't budging.**

**"It's over, Jarod. Just, leave us alone," Broots insisted. "You even got your DSA's! I got them, personally, for _you_. So you'd leave them alone." He breathed deeply. "Take them and go. Just go so this ends!" He yelled at him. "How many more times? Go."**

**"What do you remember about me? You must remember more, I can see it. I _know_ it." Jarod begged her. "Your mother, she died, she's supposed to be dead. Broots should be too. Falling rain. Falling snow. Average cute girl looking at fallen snow. Average cute girl. Looking at . . . dead body. Faith."**

**"In a few minutes you won't even know why you're here," Broots muttered to him. "Your past thoughts are already jumbled up, you can't even put them in sequence anymore. Just take the DSA's and get out. You can't lock her, I have the puzzle key."**

**_Puzzle key? _Did he just call the one year old in his arms a puzzle key? The one he said he wanted?**

**"You can turn it around." Jarod took the DSA's. "You don't have to choose this path." He winced. "I know it's weird and it's crazy, but I know . . ."**

**"Did you make it to your parents in 1973?" She had to know. He nodded. "Now you have your DSA's. You should be happy." Yet. Even she felt it. It was strong, beating inside of her rapidly. Her mind was echoing it over and over, to go back. This wasn't the story. _It's a fantasy. I don't want a damn thing in this world except mom. _The only signal of reality was in Jarod's eyes. She felt herself breathing more erratically. She couldn't hear the music around her, or even smell the open air. "I don't know what's real. I feel like I'm losing my mind."**

**"And I am here for_ that_ part." Jarod grabbed her hand.**

**"But you don't need that, you don't need to remember," Broots insisted. "Nothing but tragedy, you get a new start and new bliss with me."**

**She let go of Jarod's hand. "What am I supposed to do with all this?" She looked toward her mother. "Please, mom? Explain? I?" Oof. Memories. "Raines said all kinds of things, and I don't know what's true and what's not anymore."**

**Her mother shook her head with a knowing smile. "You may ask something. I'm here, right now. What harm?"**

**Questions. So many questions, but her mom didn't look like she was waiting for an assault, and she didn't even know all the theories or concepts or brainiac stuff she should ask. "Will I go insane if I don't figure this out?"**

**"Do you remember the rhymes?" Her mother held up four fingers. "It's one. It's one. Nothing done. On one. It's two. It's two. Me-mories. Surface blue. It's three. It's three. Me-mories. Deep blue seas. But there's four. But there's four. You'll never be yourself no mo-ooore." She put her fingers back down. "You thought it was the saddest song. You have been at four since the day Ethan was born. You haven't been yourself anymore since. That? Is the closest thing to insanity."**

**"I don't understand," Miss Parker. "Surface blue. Deep blue seas?"**

**"Okay then, how about this? How about from something you would understand today? You, as you are, live on four levels. Let's call them, sublevels considering where the real you has dwelled for so long. You should understand that term. Correct?"**

**"Yes. It gets nastier the further down you go it," Miss Parker said.**

**"SL1, SL2, SL3, and SL4," Her mother said. "Correspond them to the song. SL1, there's nothing done on one. No memories of traveling of any kind. You're just like everyone else in the world. SL2 is medium. You will remember the travels within the current changes. Outer changes not in that timeline will be gone for your mind. Basically, no backtracking." Her mother smiled. "This is how you'll spend most of your time. On SL1 or SL2. Now? SL3 is the deep blue seas. You'll remember _everything_, even the backtracking. And sadly, SL4? The word Jarod used. Sculpted. You _became_ what others wanted. Since you were always with Broots or I? You were his perfect wife, and I suppose you rubbed upon me as the most perfect daughter you could be too. I'm sorry."**

**"Okay. I was sculpted." Miss Parker was getting it now. She'd heard that rhyme nearly all her life. With those designations, she got it. "Why?"**

**"You couldn't handle it. You can't kill at ten years old." She sighed. "If your sweet naïve ten year old self woke up right then? Would she be able to handle it?"**

**Oh. "No, not at all."**

**"Then, SL4. You _must_ live harmoniously with your forgotten and remembered self."**

**_They still had it coming. _But thirty years absent? _Okay. Don't ever do that again. _"The keys," Miss Parker asked. "What can you tell me about these gawking weirdos still staring at me like I'm a box of powdered donuts?"**

**"Say your rhyme Honey. Say your favorite one," her mom insisted.**

**"That old rhyme." She hadn't sung it in so long. So many things stayed buried away since her mother died. Her mother made her sing it so often. She didn't sing it, but she said it. "The inner sense, the sunken treasure." _Inner sense. I should have known from the first line. _She kept going. "The great destroyer, the great curator. Not yet come or the faraway past. A rusted heart will come at last." _I wasn't rusted just slightly aged. Seriously, rusted? Or, maybe that refers to the fact I'm not innocent and shiny. _"A key of new and the rust will shine. A key of blue and memory wine."**

**Keys, her keys. She was already on track. _Clever, Mom. "_Unlocked or locked and the heart will choose_. _A key of new or a key of blue." Choosing between two keys. _Broots or Jarod. "_Kiss and tell oh that is fine but expect a fight nearly all the time."**

**She looked between Jarod and Broots. _Yeah no kidding a fight. Look at these two. Jarod stares at Broots like he was Daddy. _"For once it comes to the final hour." Ooohh . . ."The puzzle key is the final power." She looked at the rugrat Broots was holding.**

**"Better?" Her mother asked. "One key, two hearts. When Jarod is with you, you remember. When Broots is with you, you forget. Both keys do remember for you though."**

**"Jarod was far away," Miss Parker looked to Broots. She snapped at him. "Hey, you! Why would you even worry? He was nowhere near me."**

**"We get more than memories," Jarod said, catching her attention. "_We_ get everything. We get what your mom called 'SL3' forever, when we . . . win."**

**"Oooh, I see. Thaaaat's why I am a gorgeous piece of meat cooking on a hot barbecue grill." Practically drooling. She held everything.**

**"Always," her mother smiled. "They will _always_ fight. They will _always_ have reasons for being the one. You can never satisfy one or the other."**

**"While I was living with Jarod. Small, for a month? That wasn't true though," Miss Parker informed her. "He forgot."**

**"Adjusting. You have a period of adjustment. Your first travel and displacement, they will both cause ripples in how everything works. In a few weeks, everything worked out."**

**"No. Jarod came back for me a year later," she said. "A year later, Mom."**

**"Emergency. Your keys are your guards. If you are hurt, they will be called. If you need help, they will be called."**

**"Yeah, Raines and The Centre would be sending out big flags of 'get me out of here'." She looked between Jarod and Broots again. "If I'm reading this right, Broots' tactics won with the kid?"**

**"If you stay? Yes. He wins, and Jamie will receive your power. No more traveling. No more woes. No more adventures. You stay here with your son and Broots. You can teach him one day how to travel, or not. It's up to you. Jarod will eventually leave, he won't be able to remember soon. His notes and his genius might make him find his way back again, but he'll just go again. Broots is your key, now and forever."**

**"Unless I move." Miss Parker felt her heart hammer away as she looked at Broots. _Why him? Of all the people picked, why Broots? _By saving Jarod, she saved like 300,000 people from his future sims. What in the hell did she do to change Broots' life enough to make him the other one? "Alright. So the rugrat sealed me here, or I gotta get out? Is it always a kid?"**

** "No, never at all. You never have to have one. Ridiculous. After all, keys are man or woman," her mother answered. "But if it does happen, it seals your key to you forever. And? Time will only allow it to come from your keys now. An exact time. An exact place. The children will always be the same." She shrugged. "You can achieve a similar effect by constantly being with your key."**

**"Staying near one of these guys forever?"**

**"No!" Her mother laughed at her and then shook her butt. "Bow Chicka Wow Wow."**

**Oh. Ah. _Most guys wanna do me because I'm gorgeous. These two want to do me because they think I'm some magical mermaid. Fantastic. Ugh! _She watched Jarod messing with his boombox again. _Now what's that idiot doing? _She looked toward Broots. "They stay far from each other. Shouldn't there be like a smackdown happening where I'm deciding whether to help or hurt Broots in the process?"**

**"Keys never get close. They get close to you. They can't get close to each other. Which is good? Most keys despise each other enough. Mine did," her mother admitted. "My first ones. My second ones."**

**"Second ones? They changed?" Miss Parker asked.**

**"Hm. You always have two. Always," she said. "It might not always be two you want."**

**Miss Parker didn't answer back. She didn't really have anything else to say or ask. She was caught now. Her mom would help her out, she knew she could get her out of there. That world that she didn't know. Where she built a life that wasn't her own making. _I want her. _But her mom was the only thing she wanted. She looked over at Jarod. He was playing something with Pink Floyd now. "Why do you keep doing that? Just say what you want."**

**Jarod didn't answer back. Just kept the boombox playing Pink Floyd over his head now. He'd stop only to rewind it and play it again. Short song. Two minutes.**

**Meanwhile, Broots and the child in his arms. _Choose a world I don't know for her? I want to, but. I don't think I can. _The whole world sounded like it was getting quieter. The wind felt like it wasn't as cold on her legs in that dress. "Broots takes me to SL4."**

**"No, no I don't!" Broots said, thrilled he finally got the chance to speak. "Of course not. It's just what happens if_ you_ end up in SL4. I can't undo it. No, when Jarod goes away, you'll stay here with me. You can learn to be with me as you are."**

**"No. I can't," Miss Parker disagreed. The lovely smells of Paris were starting to fade around her. _My mind won't let me stay. _"I will unborn a child?"**

**"No. No, no," her mother assured her. "Sweet Jamie? He's one puzzle key. Jarod has his puzzle key. All genetics, sperm, egg. They'll be reborn like everyone else. Don't feel sad or mad about it. And, it's okay. There's more here than me as a choice," her mother whispered. She gestured toward Jarod, playing his song. "He didn't come just because he thinks you are a mystical mermaid. He knows he missed the chance to get to know you. He knows he missed something special. And he doesn't even really know what, but he _knows_ it. Do you?"**

**Miss Parker turned her head to look back at Jarod. No words. _He knows it, but he doesn't know it. _He was using music because he didn't know how to convey that. _Okay. I'm listening._**

**-And all that is now. And all that is gone. And all that's to come. And everything under the sun is tune, but the sun is eclipsed by the moon.-**

**_Eclipsed. _Yeah. _I'm the freaking moon to him. I'm wrong in the world. No, I'm. _No, it wasn't that! Even Sydney would say it wasn't that. "I can't, Jarod. I don't get you. I never do." He was too damn smart for her. Without Sydney he might as well be waving his arms to convey what he needed. He didn't seem surprised, nor upset. _Oh great. _He gave her something that would bake in her head.**

**Still. Even now. Same old Jarod, still playing games with her mind. But he was the only thing that was the same and even now, he was starting to fade. _I can't hold onto fantasy. I know this world is fantasy. I didn't create it, I didn't make this path. Someone that wasn't me made it. I can't choose it, it's not mine to choose._**

**It wasn't her to choose. Her body felt numb. She shook her head. "I love you, Momma." But even if she wanted to stay? Even now, the voices and whispers were disappearing, being replaced with other smells. Other sounds. Other tastes . . . although a part of her wanted her mother, a great part of it knew that it wasn't going to happen. Her mind was too disconnected from that world. She had to get back on the right path.**

**The right one she'd been on, before she felt lost. "Will I remember this?"**

**"Not long term. Only during SL3. Breaking point change shifts." She gave her a gentle kiss, but she didn't even feel it. "Walk it off, Honey. Go for a walk. Don't be afraid of what you find at the end. You've got a long way to go to recorrect everything. But, when you finally remember this? It'll feel like no time at all."**

* * *

**Miss Parker Remembers: The original time of the 90's and going back in time to 1973. She also starts to realize that this isn't the first time she's time traveled. Her memory is interrupting her, showing her that she tried to commit suicide but wished to see Jarod and the rabbits again and was taken back to a younger age. She also seems to see Jarod's side of the events, and she doesn't know how. She killed Raines to save Ethan too in the past. After doing this, she opens her eyes and realizes it is now 2001. Her mother is still alive, and she made a big mistake killing Raines. Her old self could not live harmoniously with what she had done. Now she has a child and must decide whether staying in Paris with Broots and her mom is the right thing, while Jarod is on the other side telling her it's wrong. However? The world is just too much of a fantasy, it wasn't what she knew or created and like it or not, she leaves back in time and relives everything _again_, hopefully not making the same mistake. Which is why her memory just triggered.  
**

**Jarod: ****The original time of the 90's and going back in time to 1973. He rescued Miss Parker.  
**

**Broots: Not Here Yet.**


	16. Walking it Off

**Author's Note: I totally love Broots in the series, he's like my favorite secondary character. Don't think I'm picking on him. Miss Parker feels the same way, but because he and Jarod both want the same thing? They always end up against each other.**

**END OF DREAMING SEQUENCE . . .**

**1974- Hotel**

She smelled the scent of a hamburger in front of her. A familiar greasy one from the work she used to do. _Food. _Still tired, but she opened her eyes. She was still hungry.

Miss Parker's eyes shot open! She automatically tried to stand up, but her body rejected that action.

"Whoah, whoah, we'll bring it to you," Jarod said, trying to help her calm. "Hey? Welcome back, it's okay," Jarod greeted her. He put the hamburger in her hands, next to her mouth. He probably knew she'd rather try to eat herself. It was her style. "Eat and don't worry. Last night of this. I gave you the counter drug some time ago, you'll be okay. Give it a few more hours, and you'll have almost complete control of your arms. You'll even be able to take a bath tomorrow."

She started eating the hamburger, scrunching it down as she could. _If I can do this with my arms, I can walk. _She didn't know how long she'd remember the changes that had been made in that stream. So far, she'd only just thought this was her first time around.

_It wasn't._ She glanced toward Jarod's arm. He had a tattoo this time? She couldn't read it well, it was covered by his jacket. "Rebelling much?"

Jarod noticed where she'd been looking. "Oh. Reminder." He gestured to his back. "I call them my inner sense tattoos. Not for decoration, for purpose. I also put some on my back and stomach. I didn't want to risk anything happening to them. I mean, I was lost for so long. I didn't remember you or the other time. Just running through life as a kid."

_Not a bad thing, Jarod. _Maybe that would keep him from wasting time hunting her down. Miss Parker closed her eyes. Lies and deceit from Raines almost killed her. She wasn't going through that again. Ever again. _Longest way around to learn a lesson._

* * *

Less than an hour later, she noticed the boys had gone down too. Jarod and Angelo slept on the covers of the same warm bed, giving her space. This time, she didn't tell them anything about any GPS or Raines' plans. She knew the truth now. That it was all lies.

Her mom messed up enough with Raines. _Destiny will choose. No one else. My life! _She put her all into standing up from the bed. She moved toward the front door, gently opening it up. Taking her mother's advice. Going for a walk. Her mom knew so many things that she couldn't possibly know. How many times had her mother gone around her entire life too? _Live like the boy you are, Jarod. Besides. Got your little tattoos to figure out when you get older. That'll keep you going. Go, Boy Wonder._

She walked down the sidewalk, leading away from the hotel door. Part limp, one of her legs wasn't perfect. As long as she stayed away from Jarod, he wouldn't remember. _Angelo will go to __Sydney__. That Little Nibbler took care of me for months, he deserves that instead of back to Raines. _Sydney couldn't care for her and him. Even Jarod must have known that. Jarod had no idea where to stick her, he'd be playing guessing games.

Jarod's home. The children. Sydney's happiness. By granting her mother's unfinished business, she saw every sacrifice that came with it. _Farther and longer. _She turned on the sidewalk, finally reaching the side of the street. Good old Jarod managed to score one snazzy car. He'd be using it to track her soon. And so far, she walked about ten feet.

"No," she groaned. She knew she wasn't fast enough. She reached her hand out in front of her. "Go back to The Centre. Kill Raines. I need to." Another step. "Go back to The Centre." Another step. "And kill Raines." Out of steps. There was no way she was getting away from that hotel. No wonder Jarod wasn't worried. She was way too weak.

Then she watched as a car screeched and stopped right in front of her. A door was opened on the side next to her, while a young man crawled out. She couldn't fight, and as she saw the young familiar face? She never would fight that person. _Knew you'd be coming soon._

"Miss Parker, I've finally got you." Broots helped her in on the side and took off. "Don't worry, I'm here now. You don't need Jarod, and you definitely don't need The Centre. I've got you. Unlike Jarod, I am older than 18. I don't _have_ to play fake ID's." He shifted the gear to go faster. "I am here to help you."

" . . . okay." He even recognized her? "Broots, how did you find me?"

"It flashes on me, the memories," he said. "Emergency. Same way Jarod probably knew. Much more powerful the closer I could get to you though. You and me? This is it. This is a brand new beginning! Yep. I remember The Centre. We used to chase that kid in that hotel room."

Okay. "What do you plan on doing with me?"

"Are you kidding? Oh! I'm going to take care of you," he assured her. "No problem! Look, first time I came, I was a little confused. Plus, not being around you all the time, like Jarod had been, I was _often_ confused. Uh? Fortunately, your emergency really helped me find you. Look, Jarod has a family to go to now. Yay for him right? What about you? Off to The Centre for your dad's fake affection? No, no, Miss Parker. No. New beginning, that's us."

She was slipping further away from her previous knowledge. To simply . . . "Your Broots . . ."

"Yeah. Don't worry, that's natural. I'm the unlocking key," he said. "Let Jarod go, and I'll be here for you. I can give you_ everything_ you want. All Jarod can do is keep the memories of the future and that pain alive for you. He's called the lock key according to your mom's notes. But being around me, I can erase, let you forget this whole time travel mess. Let you live a nice childhood." He reached in the back and pulled out a bag. "And look? I was always a really good history buff. I knew games and trivia, and I knew the right kind of stocks to get into. No kidding. We're rolling. We'll be fine. So, let's talk."

"Talk about what?" she asked, knowing full well he'd talk for awhile before he reached the point. She didn't care. She missed him.

"You were a red file. A potential Pretender, but The Centre didn't use you like that. Well? We are going to see where your potential lied." He smiled. "In other words, we'll find out what really makes you happy. You know where your dad is. The scrolls. All that stuff. Stay away, and he lives."

"Daddy gets blown up by Bridget then."

Broots laughed. "Brigitte as Bridget. Yeah. Didn't think I'd hear that name again. Oh? Well, not really. Everything's changed. You know? I bet that has changed too. Either way. A new beginning. And you? Don't worry, okay? You don't have to remember any of this."

Same old Broots. Rambling away. "How do you know so much, Broots?"

"Oh? Well, it may be the 70's, but I _am_ Broots. Number one computer genius." He laughed. "Oh yeah. There's still a lot of stuff in The Centre by your mom that hasn't been wiped out, but we're not tangling with them. No Jarod. No Centre. No nothing. Just you and me. Whatever you want."

"Whatever I want?" Her whole life had been The Centre. _Whatever I want? What do I want? _"Why?"

"Why? Because." He looked back at her. "Jarod wrote what you were like in his book he authored. When you were small? I've heard him talk about it with you. I've seen the DSA's of how wonderful you were before . . . And? I won't let it happen, The Centre won't corrupt you. Nope, nope, nope."

She looked at him closely, SL3 deep memories seeping into her again. "I'm a kid, Broots. I'm not . . . you're eighteen? Nineteen? You better not get any ideas about more adult things. I'm only fourteen."

"Nineteen, yeah. Adult things? Oh no. No, don't ask for smokes, because I'm not getting you any," he chuckled. "No ulcer for you. Yeah. We'll be okay. As long as you stay. Give me a chance?"

She leaned back again. In Paris. Jarod was ready to murder Broots, Broots wanted to will Jarod away, but her mother? _She wouldn't have let Broots stay if he was terrible. _Plus, it was Broots. That world was different. Aware of his future too young, that's what her mom said. That whole time though? Catherine Parker was at ease with Broots. She knew him. "Keys."

"Yeah you get it?" he asked.

"Sure. If I choose Jarod, I always stay like this. I remember everything and he remembers everything. If I choose you, I can't remember time travel."

"Right!"

"But you get to use that future knowledge for cold, hard cash."

"Yep!"

"If you sculpt me, I will kill you. I don't care how old I look. I am still Miss Parker, and I will _remain _Miss Parker. I will fight you to stay here."

Broots swallowed. "Of course you're you? You won't remember the bad memories, but of course you'll be you. Why would you ever change?" He asked. "Why did you use the words in your mothers notes? Sculpt?"

"You do get the fact Jarod risked a lot to get me from Raines? Stealing me away isn't going to make him happy." She had to make sure he understood. "Jarod's got a thing about justice and doing what's right. Pretty sure girl he was watching getting kidnapped away is going to ring some solid 'I don't like you' bells."

"I'm nineteen," Broots said. "He's not going to trust me. Even if I thought he would, I can't just walk up to him and ask with you right there. You don't know how dangerous that is. Keys can't get close. It's not a let's work this out together situation with Jarod. Sorry," Broots apologized awkwardly. "He's a great guy, but given the options? You shouldn't have to remember that awful future. You deserve a chance. At happiness. At a real life too."

She closed her eyes, her head hurting, paranoia leaving, and memories fading again. "Just head forward, Cowboy. The sooner Jarod and I forget. The better off we'll both be."

* * *

**Harriet Tashman's Farm**

"None at all?" Major Charles asked Sydney. "Like last time?"

"As far as I can tell, only Angelo knows," Sydney said. "He was left, shocked, like last time I found him." Sydney looked toward his car. He had went to retrieve Angelo, but he found Jarod there too. With no memory. "Angelo said she knew more, she was slowly telling Jarod many things he couldn't understand." He looked back to Major Charles. "She walked off. She was hurt. Could barely move her arms now. Tortured by Raines. And." He whispered. "She walked off."

"Distance," Margaret said to him, rubbing her eyes. "He might have glimpses, but he'll be . . . just our ordinary fifteen year old boy again. Miss Parker, took that hurt and that." She looked down. "She walked off so Jarod wouldn't remember her again." She swallowed. "So he could have a normal childhood."

"Normal is not the right word," Sydney said to them. "Jarod leaves because he is unfulfilled. Hiding-"

"-surviving-"

"-in a barn is not what he wanted for him or his brothers or sisters. Jarod has studied everything, and could conclusively state. This isn't a good place for his little brothers and sisters." Sydney handed Major Charles some money. "A down payment," he said. "Jarod had instructions for distributing payment the longer he forgets. So that he can still take care of his family."

Major Charles looked at it.

"He committed grand larceny from The Centre. If he doesn't remember, I'll give you ten thousand each month."

"Oh my goodness." Margaret caught her breath.

"He had diagrams on him too." Sydney gave them to his father. "While you are learning to hide and adjust, he dreams of this." A house in a pentagon shape, sheltering a playground in the middle. "I know that everyone's lives have been turned upside down, but if you want Jarod to stay? At least until he is older. Collect the money, and start thinking wisely about where to go _yourselves_."

Major Charles looked at Margaret. "A playground for the kids. Safely between."

"Safely between." Margaret nodded. "No matter how long it takes, we'll figure it out." Still. "If he knew what happened, this would crush him. He wanted to save so many."

"True, but there is something else you should know," Sydney warned them. "Jarod has what he calls Inner Sense tattoos."

"What?" Major Charles asked.

"He was afraid over time that he might forget the papers, or the events themselves. He tattooed the reminders upon his stomach and back."

"Jarod got tattoos? At fifteen?" His dad asked angrily. "Who would tattoo a fifteen year old?!"

"Jarod had resources," Margaret told Major Charles. "More than we'll ever know." She chuckled. "Inner Sense tattoos. He can still help others."

"When the most important start to count. Those are the ones he placed upon himself," Sydney told them. "He has one more, on his arm. It says 'Never Leave Miss'."

"Well, he didn't," Major Charles stated. "She left him."

"She left him a new start," Margaret corrected him. She looked back toward Sydney. "Where do you go?"

"I'll stay in touch." Sydney gestured to the car toward Angelo. "I am taking him with me on a new adventure of my own. Take care of Jarod."

"Can't." Major Charles shook his head. "Jarod eventually remembered the girl, _only _because of Ethan."

"Ethan does have the spark that Catherine had," Margaret said to Sydney. "He drove Jarod crazy until something clicked one day."

"If he's not around, nothing will click," Major Charles said. "Ethan . . . he's a good boy," he said to Sydney. "A real good boy, but Jarod and him."

"Are you sure, Charles?" Margaret asked softly. "He is your son too."

"I know. I know." Charles swallowed. "Sydney? Ethan is wonderful, but he's too young and different. He screams if he doesn't get his way, otherwise he's great. But."

"He needs to grow." Sydney understood. He looked back toward Jarod in the car. Dazed and confused how he ever even left the farm. _Jarod deserves his family. _"I will take care of Ethan until he grows up a little more." Sydney returned to the car to the frightened child of Jarod. It was so easy to tell the difference.

"Sydney?" Jarod asked him. "I'm back at the barn?"

"For now, Jarod. I think your parents will be finding a new place soon." Oh, the smile that blossomed on his face.

"Sydney? Will you tell me why I was at a hotel with Angelo yet?" Jarod asked again.

"It doesn't matter, Jarod. The Centre erased it. All that matters is your safe, and your family is safe," Sydney said. "I am going to take Angelo with me. I may not see you again for a long time. I hope you can get along better with your family?"

"I know. I'll try," Jarod sighed. "It's hard. They don't let me do much."

"You're a kid, Jarod. Just listen to them, like you would me." He rubbed his head affectionately once more. "I am taking your little brother though, for a little while. Your family will need space and time to discuss plans for homes later on."

"Well? Okay. I know if he's with you, he'll be safe," Jarod said, "He needs someone to work with him. I know that."

"I will work with him. Be a good boy, Jarod." Sydney stood back up. "Run along to your family."

"Okay. Oh, and Sydney?" Jarod said. He held out his arm. "I don't know where this tattoo came from? It says 'Never Leave Miss'. Does that mean Miss Parker? Is she still in Europe?"

"She is still in Europe," Sydney lied. "Get going, Jarod. Don't let life pass you by."

**End of Act 2**

* * *

**Miss Parker Remembers: The original time of the 90's and going back in time to 1973. She also starts to realize that this isn't the first time she's time traveled. Her memory is interrupting her, showing her that she tried to commit suicide but wished to see Jarod and the rabbits again and was taken back to a younger age. She also seems to see Jarod's side of the events, and she doesn't know how. She killed Raines to save Ethan too in the past. After doing this, she opens her eyes and realizes it is now 2001. Her mother is still alive, and she made a big mistake killing Raines. Her old self could not live harmoniously with what she had done. Now she has a child and must decide whether staying in Paris with Broots and her mom is the right thing, while Jarod is on the other side telling her it's wrong. However? The world is just too much of a fantasy, it wasn't what she knew or created and like it or not, she leaves back in time and relives everything _again_, hopefully not making the same mistake. Which is why her memory just triggered. She is taking the initiative to take the walk and runs into Broots. Broots is her 'other key' and instead of holding her memory, he unlocks it all.  
**

**Jarod: ****The original time of the 90's and going back in time to 1973. He rescued Miss Parker but while he slept Miss Parker was taken away. Debating whether she's alive or not, he tells Sydney what to do if his memory is lost again to time. Towards the end, Jarod only remembers escaping the Centre somehow with Parker and ending up with his family again.  
**

**Broots: His memory has been going on and off for some years. This is the result of not being near Parker. When it worked, he would invest and win big. Secure, Broots took the chance to snatch Miss Parker. His memory now stays intact, remembering the 90's and the current years he now lived in the past (1973-1974)  
**


	17. Doctor Michael Bailey Maybe?

**Author's Note: One of my favorite acts. Our little Jarod is 18 now. Not so little anymore and he's going to start making some decisions. Also, Kyle.**

**Yes. I love Kyle.:)**

* * *

ACT THREE: MIAMI HEAT

**1977**

Jarod's life had gotten better. His parents managed to get their family out and to an actual house. It even had a backyard hiding in the middle of it. They could all go out and get sun and fresh air all they wanted now. That was magical compared to Harriet Tashmann's place. Yet, they were still very secretive of anything. They had a new 'stage family' they called it, living up front while they lived toward the back. The house was big enough that there was a bathroom, a bath, a shower, and rooms for them as well as the family upfront. The space between though was walled in, except for one door, in and out.

Still, a huge improvement. Yet? Still.

Jarod stayed with his brothers and sisters. Kyle was showing signs though that he wasn't going to be lasting for very much longer. On the very outside of that house was the world, was people, was interaction! Even Jarod felt the temptation. Jarod tried to spend extra time with his brother, to help them both feel better. But Kyle summed it up one day while they were outside on the playground patch.

"Home is The Centre with the evil hollowed out of it." When Kyle made the statement, everyone just looked at him. His mom and dad took him away to scold him, but as much as Jarod wanted to deny it.

Kyle was close to right. Sealed up on another side of a house, with a garden like area to catch sun in. That's what they had. Jarod looked up toward the sky. "If The Centre had a small sky shining above it." He looked back and saw his parents didn't go far enough yet. "Wait, I didn't mean it!"

Kyle and Jarod were both taken care of and sent to each of their rooms. Jarod heard Kyle banging on the door. Jarod didn't bang. He was kept in his room with food being given to his door. Now it really was like The Centre. "I promise, I'll behave! I won't say it again!" Jarod said. He hated being that confined. "Please!"

When the door opened again, it was Sydney. "Sydney?" Sydney still visited him. He was watching over his little brother, Ethan, who still needed help. He tried to visit monthly if he could, but it didn't always happen. Jarod almost felt bad sometimes how good it felt to see him. Especially now. "Sydney, I'm locked away in my room!"

"Disciplinary, Jarod, nothing more. It's only been an hour, calm down," Sydney insisted. He gestured toward the bed. "We need to have a little talk now that you are getting older. It's a discussion that I told your parents I needed to have with you when the time was right."

A talk? Jarod moved over toward his bed.

"Your parents are both testy about something. I know you and Kyle have been riled up lately, and that's only exacerbated it to the point we must do this now," Sydney said. "I'm afraid after I tell you this, I may be in trouble with your father. However, your mother agrees. You've had enough lies and secrets, and you are old enough. She doesn't want to keep them anymore. Especially when lives are on the line."

Jarod sat on his bed and listened to everything Sydney had to say.

Everything. It sounded too incredible, but there were so many strange details he couldn't have known. Jarod had time traveled back with Miss Parker. Jarod didn't remember any of it though. He told him about the night he escaped, living with her, and the hotel that never made sense.

Then the kicker? "Someone took Miss Parker? Is she alive?" It was clear Sydney didn't know, but from the way it sounded like she was taken? Probably not. "If she is. I'll find her one day. I will, Sydney. She rescued me, I understand that much." Jarod moved onto feeling the tattoos on his stomach. "So, even though my DSA's are gone, I can use these codes to navigate to help me? To correct other wrongs I wanted to help in the future too?"

"Correct." Sydney nodded his head. "One more thing. I took everything I could of Catherine Parker's notes before I left. I knew it was risky, but." He handed Jarod some handwritten notes. "I rewrote them in a way that would be easier for your mind to understand, Jarod. I also added the tidbits of the car that you saw take Miss Parker."

"I saw it?" Jarod went to that first. "That info isn't the best."

"You barely had enough time to come out when it screeched to see it," Sydney said. "My specialty isn't finding cars, I'm sorry, and without Centre resources? I just hope you find out what happened to her one day."

Jarod read the notes of Catherine Parker. "If I want to remember the future, I have to have Miss Parker with me." That made sense. "I hope she's alive, Sydney. I want her to be."

"I hope so too, Jarod," Sydney said sympathetically. "At least you left yourself those rebellious tattoos."

"But, you said I had papers, and my DSA's, and a briefcase of everything?" Jarod said. "Where did it all go?"

"I don't know, but, considering the . . . tension between your mother and father regarding the issue of telling you the truth?" Sydney sighed. "Your father doesn't believe, he thinks The Centre did everything. He doesn't believe we are telling you the truth, but lies, and so he is not going to be-"

"Sydney!"

"Happy." Sydney opened the door and Jarod's father stood there. "I have brought Ethan back for good, Major Charles. He will need tender and slow help still. I'll be going now."

"Go and don't come back, ever again," he warned him. "Stay away from Jarod, I mean it. The Centre filled his mind with lies, and you just added to it. Get out."

Jarod watched the exchange. His dad's voice was stern. Not yelling. Commanding. Jarod got off the bed and watched his dad proceed to their front door that separated out the house. _Dad doesn't want me to know. Dad didn't want __Sydney__ telling me anything. So what if?_ While his dad was busy directing Sydney out, he snuck off to his parents room. He looked under the bed and found a briefcase. He opened it up and looked inside. He did have fake ID's, but there were no papers about sims. He heard his mom call his name. Then he heard his dad call his name. Then he watched as the briefcase got took away.

"Ethan's back for good," his father said to him. "Go say hello to your little brother."

"Where are my papers?!" Jarod demanded. He looked from his mom to his dad. "All of the information Sydney said! My DSA's! The explanation of what happened, all the places I needed to visit!" Jarod watched his dad instruct his mother to leave. "Dad?"

"Oh, Jarod. You've always been the stubborn one." He sat on the bed. "Come here."

Ooh. Jarod didn't like that. At all. His dad was reserved about a situation that should be starting a fight. Not only that, he had his mom leave. Jarod sat down. "Yeah?"

"The Centre was a bad place, full of trickery," he said to him. "Even out of it's grasp, it still holds people's psychological welfare. I mean? Sydney is a smart man, and your mother is brilliant too. But? You _know_. There's no such thing as time travel." He put his hand on Jarod's back. "There isn't. There's no going back and setting things right. If there was? I'd be right there, making sure no one ever took you in the first place." He rubbed Jarod's head affectionately. "They've been bamboozled still by The Centre. Don't let persuasion cloud your judgment."

"Sydney never would have known about Nicholas," Jarod told him.

"With information dropped in different ways, anything is possible."

"I don't remember what happened at the hotel with Miss Parker."

"Jarod, you don't remember anything before The Centre at all."

It didn't matter. His dad was trying to stir him to reason, but Jarod already reasoned it out as best he could. "Inner sense exists. Ethan has it. Nobody can explain that."

"Luck. It's luck when he says something and it turns out right, Son. Nobody can be wrong every time."

Nope. "I've seen the impossible. I can't rule out anything. Where are my papers? Where are the DSA's?"

"What happened at The Centre, it wasn't your fault. You aren't responsible for all that, Jarod." His dad looked at his hands. "Ethan was brought home for a reason. At my request. Sydney was getting too close to wanting to expose you to all the lies. He was even convincing your mother. Our family is together again." He patted his son's leg affectionately. "He isn't a part of it. We can deal with Ethan, but not him."

"Not? Him?"

"He knew it was coming, and he just hurried it up by taking that shot," his father told him. "Sydney is banned from this house and you are never seeing him again." He stood up. "The papers and DSA's don't exist, I destroyed them. It's nothing but guilt and reminders that you don't need. When you get older, when you are ready to escape this kind of life with us, then you need to be focusing on your life. Not on some kind of retribution. It's not your fault."

"But? What?" Jarod was still stunned. "Ethan is . . . but he . . . but those . . ." Childhood. "But all my days were on there!"

"No child has all their days they carry around with them. Just live your days, Son," his father said. "Go say hello to your brother and don't come back in this room, Jarod."

Jarod stood up, wanting to rip the briefcase back to himself. "You really got rid of it all? You didn't really . . .?"

"I threw them away ages ago, Son! That kind of thinking, that you_ have _to correct what your sims did, that will run your life." He crossed his arms. "You can't make up for everything, and it was not your fault. I don't believe in anything Sydney says, but I have seen some warning signs where you are headed. Live for yourself. There is never any reason to pretend anymore. It's over."

"Sydney took care of Ethan." But Ethan was brought back. "Y-you can't do that. He watched him for years. You can't take away Sydney from Ethan. He raised him too, he's like his son now too!"

"We still talking about Ethan, or you, Jarod?" His dad confronted him. "You know what?" He threw his hands up. "I don't care, but he's gone too far. He's telling you lies that The Centre fed you, so he is banned from this house."

"It didn't matter, you were just looking for an excuse! You were going to ban him anyway!" Jarod looked over toward his mom, now standing by the door. She still didn't speak up. _She snuck __Sydney__ in. _But she was leaving the blame on Sydney. Jarod imagined though, knowing Sydney, that was at his request. As long as Jarod got the information he deserved, he took the wrap for it all.

Jarod couldn't blame him. His dad thought he was trying to save him. Pull the last thing The Centre brought into their lives, let him grow, and then let him find his way. Find his way without pretending. Find what he liked best and stick with that, like other people did. Settle down. One day have a family and kids. Normality. He could find normality one day, that's what his dad wanted.

It wasn't what he wanted though. _It doesn't matter if I'm responsible, people are still hurting. That doesn't change, and no one's going to help them._

He couldn't give his dad the luxury of even thinking he had a chance with his idea. Jarod needed to be firm, now, or he'd regret it later.

So? Jarod ran away.

* * *

**1978**

**Queen of Angels hospital**

"Anything at all? Doctor Bailey?" It sounded right. Not quite. "Doctor Michael Bailey?" Jarod just watched the nurse shake her head no. He looked all around the hospital. He walked some more around the waiting room. _Michael Bailey. I know that's a name. _He looked out the window. He envisioned himself older with ice cream and a boy in a wheelchair. _Michael Bailey could be that boy. _Then, doctors. There were two doctors in his head.

He used his intelligence to navigate the world, but just like today? He couldn't navigate far in the direction of success with his sims. He kept in touch with his family, but he wouldn't give up. No matter how hard it would be. _Michael Bailey. _Scraps of information with nothing but a small code. How could he stop anything without more details? It would be tough, which is why he tried visiting way ahead of schedule. But. _It doesn't work. The boy in my head, according to the date, if it's that boy? He might not even be born yet. He won't be here. _If that was the boy that had to do with a sim. It could be a future doctor that would be there named Doctor Michael Bailey that had something to do with him?

He returned back to his car. Nothing he could do there. Before he started it up, his car phone rang. Only one person knew his car phone. "Kyle."

"I just bought myself a fortune 500 company. Do you think mom and dad will be mad?"

Jarod hit his head. Kyle! "I'm pretty sure, yeah, they'll be mad. You're too young, it'll draw attention."

"Not if I don't show up. I got one that practically runs itself already. Can't be much different than my other company."

Jarod just squeezed the side of the window pane. _Kyle. _He just took a deep breath. "Where are you right now?"

"Laying low in the shade, Big Brother. You should come visit."

Sixteen years old. _And my parents worried about me. _Kyle ended up doing the same thing as Jarod, not being able to take that separation from the real world he desperately wanted to be a part of. After Jarod ran away, he ran away about a year later too. He kept in touch, just like Jarod did, but he refused to tell his parents where he was at since he was underage. He told Jarod though.

"Where are you? Bet not as nice."

"I've been wandering around a hospital, trying to find what I need to do," Jarod said.

"Ah, Jarod. You know, you are the one playing a dangerous game. They'll know where you are."

"I have to try something," Jarod said. "I'll get it. I managed one of them. I think."

"Face it, with nothing but a date and a location, you are riding off of whatever images The Centre stuffed in your head."

"Images from the future stuffed in my head," Jarod corrected him. Not that Kyle ever believed it. Just like his dad.

"I hate that you follow those images like that."

"I know," Jarod admitted. "I can't just . . . highjack myself a fortune 500 and be happy about what happened. The Centre did terrible things with my work."

"They did with mine too. There's nothing I can do though. I don't have any weird markings on my back, and we can't get our original DSA's. It's all gone, Jarod. Let it go."

"I can't," Jarod confessed. "I have to find a way. It's not right, I know these marks will help." He glanced back toward the mark on his arm. "I'm getting closer to Miss Parker."

"Jarod, you aren't supposed to be doing that! Stop messing around in The Centre's business. That is how they find you. Your marks, your weird visions, and getting in their way? You are asking for them to swallow you back up."

"I'll be careful," Jarod said. "I just?" Never Leave Miss. "If she's alive, I have to find her. I need her, Kyle. If you get a chance, come see me. I gotta get going. I hope this car leads me to the next step in finding her."

"Oh, your funeral, Big Brother."

Yeah, yeah. "Talk to you later, Little Brother." He hung up the phone and started to drive off.

* * *

**One Month Later . . .**

Jarod answered his car phone again, pulling over on the side of the road. "Kyle."

"Where are you now?"

"Let's just say it's hot." Desert of Arizona. "Did you check out the address? Safely?"

Kyle laughed. "I did. I found your Miss Parker. Her name's not Miss Parker though. It's Charity."

"Really?" Jarod pulled out his wallet and looked at his old picture of her. It was laminated, to prevent whatever greasy substance had hit it the first time. "She matched the picture I showed you?"

"Uh huh. I was a friendly new neighbor kid. She's a cute bird, Jarod, picture does her no justice. Brickhouse."

"Yeah? I mean, no." Jarod rolled his eyes. "Were you careful? Did you find out who owned the car?"

"Uh huh." He told Jarod the information he had.

"The abductor, has her living with him?!"

"Yep. She lives in a huge place, Jarod. She is like living the Miami style."

"Huh. Then who abducted her?" It made no sense. "Was it a couple wanting a child of their own?"

"No, it was just a rich guy. I bet he's just using her. But. Basically? I am starting to, maybe. Sort of. Kind of? Believe you about the time travel. Maybe."

Jarod was torn between two pieces of information he wanted to know about. "What did you see?" Seeing is believing, Kyle must have seen something.

"Well? She's living great, Jarod. I'd like to say, 'she's great big bro and you don't need to do anything.' But there is something. She's got what I'm gonna call a scream room. I only managed to take a peak before I was thrown out."

"I told you to be careful, Kyle." His rebellious brother. "What's a scream room?" Hearing the words he just said, Jarod knew he wouldn't like it. "Kyle?"

"It's a big room, huge, like the size of a house. Refrigerator, plenty of room, plenty of activities, and a huge bathroom. It's nice and bright with the windows up high. Someone could live there for a long time and not get bored. But, it's trashed. The furniture is torn apart and she has phrases written on the wall. Things like Get Me Out, Remember, Marry Broots, Like A Virgin- 1984, Thriller-1982. It looked like a nut farm in there."

"Well then she's clearly not all right." No. Miss Parker. It sounded like she was stolen and brainwashed and this weird man was . . . "I have to get to her. Now. Maybe Sydney can work with her."

"Well? She also put Grease-1978. She put the initials SNF with a question mark and 1977. That's probably Saturday Night Fever, but she's unsure of the date? It just came out, that makes no sense. Anyhow, there's also Jaws-1975. They are all made the same way everything else is. So? If these were made ahead of time. I don't know."

"She's trying to reach herself," Jarod said. "She must be splitting between remembering the past and not. Trying to prove to herself she really did travel back in time." She didn't need Sydney, she just needed out of there.

"Jarod. It's spooky in there. I found one? Lennon-1980. What do you think she thinks happens to Lennon? Did the Beatles come back? Or? Freaky, Bro, gave me the shudders."

"Well, I found nothing here, so I am going there right away," Jarod said. "I'll go myself and I'll get her out."

"I told mom."

Whoah. "Really? You talked to mom?"

"She wants to meet above Tashmann's. As soon as possible. She wants to tell you some things she never told you before now."

Jarod nodded. "Considering what I'm hearing about Miss Parker, the sooner, the better."

"Be careful, Jarod. She could still just be a kooky bird. Maybe."

Yeah? Maybe, but Kyle was starting to believe too. Enough he actually felt pressed to call their mother first. "Talk to you later, Kyle."

* * *

**Harrier's Tashmann's Barn**

When Jarod went up to the little space he used to call home, he saw her. Although his father was extra careful, and she was extra careful, she had decided to leave the house. A one on one talk. "Mom."

Still jumpy, she had dyed her hair temporarily from red to black. "Hello, Jarod. I heard from Kyle that Miss Parker is alive. You are going after her, aren't you?"

"I need to remember," Jarod said firmly. "I_ have_ to remember. I can't do what dad says and ignore everything, but I can't keep hoping that I get it right. I just get flashbacks of things in the future. Briefly. It's not enough."

"It's called Déjà vu," she admitted. "You can't keep the memories, but you can feel out glimpses when you are right on top. So? What's it worth to you, Jarod?" She warned him. "To get more than glimpses? To remember it all? Is it worth her sanity? Is it worth suffering? Is it worth watching her mind break down in front of you?"

"We're okay," Jarod said. "I turned out fine."

"You're a key," his mother explained. "You're going to be different than the heart. You are the locking key, Jarod. According to what Kyle says, I believe she is with her other key."

Keys. "Sydney gave me Catherine Parker's notes before I left," Jarod said. "Unlock makes her forget. Lock keeps the memories."

"That is a very juvenile way of looking at it. I can understand why Sydney put it that way. Keys and hearts are _anything_ but simple, Jarod. I remember only the very basics, because I wasn't chosen. I have what I wrote down. I have the déjà vu. That's all I will ever have. I do know? That every time she is locked or unlocked, she suffers." His mom walked across the room. She smiled at Jarod. "The only thing that is simple are the keys. It doesn't take much to make _you_ remember, but only one key at a time."

"I don't know who the other key is. I don't know who took her, Mom." Jarod watched her move their old window coverings slightly. Just enough to see the sun. It reminded him of how often he used to try and do that. "All I know is, anyone who went and picked up a girl in her condition, that didn't go drop her off at a hospital or stick around long enough to find out what happened? They aren't good. They don't deserve her."

"It must have been too painful for Catherine," she said. "Even though she knew how evil Raines was, and how terrible he had been? She _still_ chose Raines, and I think that's why. Being unlocked frees the mind, yes, but it frees it from itself too. To the point? It feels like there are two distinctly different people." She closed the coverings again. "It was too hard. According to the notes I wrote about it, she ran away to Raines. She stayed in that terrible place, knowing it was a terrible place." She swallowed. "Knowing that fate would always find a way to intertwine us again. She wasn't ready to face the hardship until after Ethan was conceived. Then? She hit rock bottom." She leaned against the window sill. "We were all supposed to move in as one big family. Catherine with Ethan and Miss Parker."

"You told me that before," Jarod said.

"But the only reason was because she was that desperate. She always knew where we were. Is her daughter stronger than her?" She looked toward the ceiling. "Four years of being unlocked. She would have gone through most of the pain. I would imagine . . . five to ten per minute now, with it going down to one a minute after that. Two more years and she'll be down to once every fifteen minutes. Livable."

What was she talking about? "Livable?"

"Go and meet her, Jarod. Keep my words in mind," she warned him. "When you understand what I'm saying, call me. Let me know the ratio." She sighed and looked around. "All of you deserved better. Even when we had such a nice place, it made no difference in the end."

"That's not true. It was hard, but livable. Felt like mirror people on the opposite side of the world." Jarod pinched his ear. "I love Dad, Mom, but he-"

"Destroyed your papers, your DSA's and took Ethan away from Sydney. I know, you've said that," she said. "He did it only to give you peace of mind. He did it because he doesn't believe in time travel. Honestly, Jarod, who does? Not many. And for something like this, it's just not . . ." She fell silent a moment.

"Not worth ruining your marriage. Catherine's dead." Jarod understood. "Kyle's starting to believe."

"Might. Enough to contact me and let me know what my oldest was doing." She smiled at Jarod. "Good luck, Jarod. Good luck to her too."

###

* * *

**Miss Parker Remembers: The original time of the 90's and going back in time to 1973. She also starts to realize that this isn't the first time she's time traveled. Her memory is interrupting her, showing her that she tried to commit suicide but wished to see Jarod and the rabbits again and was taken back to a younger age. She also seems to see Jarod's side of the events, and she doesn't know how. She killed Raines to save Ethan too in the past. After doing this, she opens her eyes and realizes it is now 2001. Her mother is still alive, and she made a big mistake killing Raines. Her old self could not live harmoniously with what she had done. Now she has a child and must decide whether staying in Paris with Broots and her mom is the right thing, while Jarod is on the other side telling her it's wrong. However? The world is just too much of a fantasy, it wasn't what she knew or created and like it or not, she leaves back in time and relives everything _again_, hopefully not making the same mistake. Which is why her memory just triggered. She is taking the initiative to take the walk and runs into Broots. Broots is her 'other key' and instead of holding her memory, he unlocks it all.  
**

**Jarod: **** Jarod only remembers escaping the Centre somehow with Parker in 1973 and ending up with his family again. However, Sydney did tell him about time travel and he is using his tattoos to try and help those he had once helped. He also uses a little of the memory relapses that can happen when he's near a place that was important in the future.  
**

**Broots: His memory now stays intact, remembering the 90's and the current years he now lived in the past (1973-1977)**


	18. Miami and Bellydancing

**Miami**

Jarod got out of his car and headed toward the suspect car up the block. It was a gated area. _Simple enough. _He found the way Kyle went in and kept heading onward. It didn't take long to find the car. It didn't look like something that would abduct a girl just to kill her. In fact, it wasn't low-key at all which is the reason Jarod actually managed to track it. He looked around the property. It was big and surrounded with a lot of security. Not a big deal, he stayed out of the way of the cameras. It sent flashbacks briefly of The Centre. Trying to avoid cameras.

He continued back farther, hearing music. The windows were set up pretty high. Even though he'd been tall now, he still had to stand on his tippy toes to reach the sill. Who put windows that high? Specially made to keep anyone seeing in.

He pulled himself upward with his arms and looked through the window. _Oh holy son of a- _Parker had grown. Her hair was longer, lustrous with sexy small braided pigtails on each side. Her body was firm, taller and definitely fuller. _Eechee, Miss Parker. _No, no. Under control, old friend. _Damn. _His heart still raced, he could feel his face get warm as well as other parts of himself. Seventeen year old Miss Parker. He almost felt himself lose his balance with his arms on the sill as he watched her do the hustle. _Flexible._

Then? He saw _him_. Right in front of her, not far away. The owner of that car. The one that stole her! _You're done for. I'm taking Miss Parker back._

* * *

Charity gave it her all for Broots. The best moves she could think of to show off. She'd studied several arts, but not dancing as well yet. She combined some of the simple moves of the hustle with the more fluid moves of disco, but that was just a warm up. Had nothing to do with what she wanted to show him. He'd be so proud of her. "Am I doing good, Broots?"

"Yeah. You're learning dance well," he said. "You've nailed all the popular dance moves already. Definition of groovy, Charity."

"Thanks, but I incorporated some other things into my learning." Now. She crinkled her nose slightly and moved closer toward him, turning off the record and putting on something better for what she would be doing. She came back in front of him and showed him her newest discovery. "Do you know the oldest dance around?" She started with gyrating her pelvis which made her shirt go up slightly. It was expected.

" . . . belly dancing?" He almost squealed. "Yep. Belly dancing. That's. Not the hustle." He swallowed. "Good. Job."

"Which do you prefer? Dancing on the side?" She danced, showing her side to him. Her hips moved and swayed. "From the back?" She turned back around. "Or the actual front to show off the tummy muscles? What do you think, Broots?"

Broots barely managed to breathe. "That was really, really, really . . . really."

Charity laughed as she kept dancing. "Next word I hope is good, Broots, or I won't try it again." It was tough, he had no idea how tough it was on her muscles yet.

"Good. Very good. Very, very good."

Charity smiled at him, pleased with her work, when a guy launched himself right between her and Broots. The guy slid across the floor slightly and then popped right to his feet. She couldn't see him, he was facing Broots.

Broots looked so stunned though, that she fixed her shirt again and leaned to the side to see this guy. This teen was staring at Broots, steel, like a warning. That look was a sign of looking to rumble, but for some reason . . . _I know this guy. _Eighteenish definitely if not older. Not a single word, but Broots looked terrible. Like he was scared of him. Who was he? Then as she looked a little deeper at the face, it hit her. "Jarod?"

Jarod was still looking at Broots like he was dirt but he reached out to her hand and grabbed it. She felt him tug her suddenly. Even though she heard Broots call back for her, instinct took over. _The Centre? It has to be The Centre! _Her legs wouldn't stop running with Jarod. He took them through rooms that were taking them from the front door. "If they're at the front door, left, if at the back, right!"

Jarod stopped a second and turned right, listening to her. Good, they weren't at the front door yet. When they reached the front door, Jarod opened it and ran all the way to a black Dodge Charger. As he reached it and got in, instinct started to fail and logic took over. "Jarod, what about Broots? The Centre will get him!"

Jarod looked at her oddly for a second, then bent over and opened the door. "I'm sure he's figured it out, get in."

Hm? Broots. "Why were you so mad at him?"

"The Centre's gonna get us if we stall, we'll meet up with him, just get in!" He pulled at her hand, making it apparent they didn't have time to talk about it. She got into the car, closed the door, and Jarod took off.

She turned around and looked out the back window.

"Safety belt, Miss Parker," Jarod warned her. "We're going at decent speeds riding a vehicle with a large amount of mass. If anything happens, you will need that."

Charity sat down correctly and put her seat belt on. She looked out the side of the chair to the back. "I don't see anyone."

"Good. It better stay that way." Jarod's voice was firm. "Are you okay?"

Charity nodded. "I don't know how The Centre found us." She looked back anxiously again. Nothing. _Jarod's a genius. I'm sure it'll be okay. _She tried to relax herself, but The Centre.

"It's okay," he assured her. "Relax, Miss Parker."

She looked back at him. That's right. "I'm Charity now. It's my new name. I left the Miss Parker behind with everything else." She still looked toward the back again.

"Charity," Jarod said. "Nice name."

"Yeah." She looked out the front. Now what would her and Broots do? When would they meet up? She looked next to Jarod and saw a car phone attached to his side. _Duh. Phone. _She was just too spooked to think straight. It all happened so fast.

"I saw you do the hustle," Jarod said. Probably trying to help her relax. "You're good at it."

"Thanks. I was learning about dancing." Wasn't helping. If The Centre catches them. He kept glancing at her strangely though. "What?"

"Nothing." He looked like he wanted to say something else. "What do you remember?"

"About The Centre?" She sat up correctly. "I remember my mom's face and voice. My dad's face and voice. Raines." She trembled on that wording. "And you," she said.

"Those aren't very good terms of showing you know it well," Jarod said.

"Well, it doesn't matter. Why would I want to remember it?" she pointed out. "It was just a place that made momma miserable and Daddy angry all the time. I couldn't even . . ." She sighed. "A girl should be able to have a first name. But, I didn't remember it." She shrugged. "So Broots named me Charity." When she said that, Jarod seemed to tighten up again. "What's wrong, Jarod? Until we started running, you looked like you might try and fight Broots." She didn't know how he'd respond, but she wasn't expecting him to grab her hand as an answer.

Whatever issue he had with Broots, it was clear he missed her. She would drop it for now. Then a few seconds later he patted her hand before taking his away and concentrated on driving again.

She rolled her mouth around uncomfortably. At least she was with the genius guy, but The Centre being out there for her. _Broooooots. _Broots always made her feel better. She was rarely separated from him. They went through so much together. Broots was a great guy. Jarod was a good guy too. What could they possibly have that was wrong between them? When would Jarod ask her about phoning him? They'd been driving a good twenty minutes and they were in the middle of traffic now. "Did we give The Centre the slip?"

"Nobody's following us," Jarod said. "We're safe now." He found an exit to turn off at and parked into a gas station. He got out and started to pump gas.

She looked around. Broots still preferred full service gas stations. She got out of Jarod's car.

"What are you doing?" Jarod asked. "Stay in the car."

Aye? He was demanding. Whenever they met before in The Centre, he wasn't like that. "Can't a girl stretch her legs?"

"Well, a girl certainly can stretch her stomach," he came back with rudely. "Why not her legs?"

Uh? Hang on, what? "What the heck is your problem, Jarod?" she asked back. "Usually you're a lot nicer."

"And you're a lot *****ier."

Her mouth just fell open. "You called me the B word." _Forget it, he's changed, I'm calling Broots. _She started to head inside, but Jarod didn't let her go too far. "Out of my way."

"I'm sorry! I don't know why I said that. I mean, you were kind of edging on. Before we left The Centre, you sort of. You called me favor boy," he reminded her. "We've been through a lot more than that, so I'm just sorry. It's like my mind jumped back a little." She nodded. "But I'm still not risking letting you out of my sight." He pointed back to the car. "Go back."

"Thanks for helping with The Centre, but I want to call Broots."

Jarod stood up straighter. "Sorry," he said again. "No." He stopped talking a second and put his hands in his bell bottom's pockets. "Charity, I know why your room is filled up with those words and years."

What? "You know about that?"

"Yeah," he said, "and it's okay. It'll make sense soon." He looked like he was debating on something. "I'm going to need your trust first before I tell you something. I can only get that without Broots around right now."

"Is this going to be a you verses him thing?" Yeah, he didn't need to answer. It was. _Broots took care of me for years. _Still. Jarod was so against him_. But, Jarod was also the only one in The Centre I could trust. _Years couldn't be put on something like that."What about Sydney?" she asked. "Are you still friends with him?"

"Sydney? Yeah. He got out too," Jarod revealed. "He has his own family, and he watched my own little brother for years. He needed. _We_ thought he needed help."

Weird words but Jarod had always used weird words. _He forgave __Sydney __for The Centre. Then what did Broots possibly do? _Broots was practically a pushover, but that look that had been in Jarod's eyes. "I live with Broots. I mean, I lived with Broots. The Centre knowing where we live, we can't go back. But, still? Broots is-" Geez, he was real angry. He looked like he was going to boil over, his body was shifting all over the place. Broots had to have done something bad.

Jarod grunted. "Yeah, you're right. I'm not really happy with him at all!" He was still biting his tongue about something. "You shouldn't be trying to attract him, you're not even eighteen."

"I was just showing him the work I put in. I do that with everything. I hadn't studied dancing long," she revealed. "Then this neighbor kid stopped by. He suggested it, said it would be way more challenging and fun. It was." Now Jarod's eyes widened. "What?"

"Said neighbor kid named Kyle?" Jarod asked.

"Yeah," she said. "He said I should try belly dancing and he'd give me practice lessons if I wanted." Jarod hit his head and squinted his eyes. "Did I forget something? Something wrong?"

"Kyle is my annoying, trouble-making little brother," Jarod said, "that I am happy to have." Still, deflated. Then? "Wait, he only showed up two days ago?" She nodded. "You learned belly dancing in two days?"

Kyle was his little brother? Aw, she met someone in Jarod's family. "Yeah."

"That is quick. Just, slow down though. You're seventeen with your whole life ahead of you."

"Oh!" Oh, she got it. Jarod thought she was after Broots' money, when he definitely had issues with him. "I'm not like, the B word kind of girl. I don't have to try and be seductive with Broots."

Jarod smiled and then Charity started getting blurred vision.

She recognized that feeling.

* * *

**Miss Parker Remembers: Broots is her 'other key' and instead of holding her memory, he unlocks it all. This means that she doesn't remember too much about The Centre, nothing about the future, nothing about different times, and only some about Jarod. She doesn't remember how or why she broke him out. Her old personality is harder to see and she goes by Charity now.  
**

**Jarod: ****He knows that a car hijacked Miss Parker. He is trying to track it down so that he can rescue her. He also knows now that if he is around Miss Parker, he'll remember and he'll be able to save people again.  
**

**Broots: His memory now stays intact, remembering the 90's and the current years he now lived in the past (1973-1977)**


	19. Bellydancing Saves Lives

Author's Note: The SL3 (Where she briefly remembers everything from another time) is in bold again.

**Gas Station in Miami**

Jarod smiled and then Charity started getting blurred vision.

She recognized that feeling. She remembered that feeling.

_**"Broots is already married to me." Yeah, she better explain that better. "I mean, on the computer. Nobody can find me as Miss Parker because my name is Charity Broots." Still not any better. "He's real good with computers."**_

_**"Number. To him. Please?" Jarod insisted. "Stretch your legs all you want, Charity Broots."**_

_**Jarod kept his cool as he dialed the number. He waited. It didn't take too long to pick up.**_

_**"Um? Hello?"**_

_**Jarod continued. "Anyone marrying someone underage just to keep them under their finger is going to end up with sore hands!"**_

_**She knew it. Charity didn't move far from the car. "Don't curse at him."**_

_**Still, Jarod wasn't apologizing anytime soon as he continued on the phone with Broots. "You're sorry for stealing her? Thanks. Four years of thinking she's dead was just relieved. What? No, it was sarcasm, you jive turkey! No more, I don't care who you are, your easy money ends now!"**_

_**"Hey, that's not nice!" Charity tried to be nice, but Jarod was blowing it. Just the way he talked to Broots. It made her just-just-just- "Why are you talking to my old computer guy like that?!"**_

_**No way. "You remember him as your computer guy?"**_

_**She got in the car, stretched over Jarod and grabbed the phone. "Broots? Talk to you later." She hung up and got back into the passenger seat. "What is your problem? You need to work on your people skills."**_

_**What? "Miss Parker?"**_

_**"I told you, it's Charity," she said again. "Jarod, what are you harassing Broots for already?"**_

_**"For stealing you."**_

_**"Oh you mean after the torturing and the hotel where I could finally walk and I collapsed outside almost?" She chuckled. "Oh come on, Jarod, give him a break. He knew you wouldn't just hand me over. He was only nineteen. Plus, he's a little scared of you."**_

**_Jarod smirked. "So you remember the future?" He looked back at her. "I don't yet, but I know things __Sydney__ told and gave me. Hey? Why'd you fake like you didn't remember?"_**

_**"Didn't remember what?" she asked. "Did The Centre actually find me or was this a ruse to pull me from Broots?"**_

_**Jarod leaned his head back. "Unbelievable. You're not making sense." He glanced at her. "You're definitely staying with me."**_

_**"Okay? Appreciate the offer?" she said. "No, I'm staying with Broots. He's who I live with." She crossed her arms. "You don't get it."**_

_**"You're wrong, I read a version of your mom's notes," Jarod revealed.**_

_**"Do did Broots, so why are you bothering with this?" She asked. "When you stay away, you don't remember all the bad memories you went through in another time. Broots, he gets to be extremely wealthy. So?" She made a 'turn around' gesture to him. "Everything's fine, Jarod."**_

_**"The DSA's are gone," Jarod admitted to her. "The papers I made, my dad torched. I still want to make up for what happened because of The Centre."**_

_**She just had a strange, funny expression on her face. "It's been a little while since we made time our *****. So one more reminder?" She leaned in closer. "I did this for my mom, not for you, Jarod. What happened was great for you, right on. Your whole family's together, far out. The end." She made a peace sign. "Take me back to Broots."**_

_**He hit his steering wheel. "It was better before I knew the ***** was back."**_

_**"Hey? What did I just say?" she warned him. "Don't call me the B word."**_

_**"But you were the one who just said the word." Jarod glanced back at her. "Stop toying with me."**_

_**"I'm not toying around with you. I told you the truth." She sat up in her seat. "Jarod, my memory doesn't get to be like yours or Broots. Your too close, way too long, and I am away from Broots. Don't you get it?" She rubbed her head. "Miss Parker. Charity. Whatever you want to call me? I'm both right now, and it's hell on my mind." She closed her eyes. "There are times I can change midsentence and be gone the next again. I just try to cope with it by not screwing up as much as possible." She pulled out a coin from her pocket. "This is you." She flipped it to heads. "This is Broots." She flipped it to tails. "And this is me right now." She turned it up on it's side and smacked it, making it spin constantly.**_

_**Jarod watched her hand smack the coin down.**_

_**"Broots tried so hard to help at first when I transitioned from you," she admitted. "I knew him in the future, he was a close friend, so he wanted to take care of me in this time. He kept setting papers in front of me, and talking to me when I was Charity. Just, constantly, always there. Quizzing me. Because, once Charity knew about time travel, and once Miss Parker learned to just accept Charity's ways, he thought it would be okay. It wasn't. It was hell. The two don't mesh . . . I remember Parker or Charity, but I . . . I can't have both." She sighed. "Most times, I'm Charity, but then when I do get these glimpses, I guess? I sort of rage out."**_

_**"Broots unlocked that," Jarod insisted. "I lock. You'd remember both. It'd be better to remember both. You probably wouldn't rage out."**_

_**"Transition between, Jarod," she warned him. "You're not listening. It's not easy on the mind, don't let it start! Just let me go back. Broots is my key."**_

_**"No. I need my memories so I can remember who to save," Jarod insisted. "We'll get through it."**_

_**"I don't want to get through it," she whined. "Jarod, please, just take me back to Broots? I'm begging you." Her hands squeezed the side of the car door.**_

_**"Raines locked your mom," Jarod pointed out. "He locked your mom good. No one ever knew anything was wrong." She didn't look good at all. She was on the verge of crying."Concentrate for me. Raise your hand when you feel like Miss Parker now." **_

_**"You mean no extra will to try and hang on?" She asked. **_

_**"Yeah." She nodded and the began. He said it many times as fast as he could. He looked at his watch and counted. In the span of thirty seconds, her hand went up five times. So ten changes every minute. So. "You're mom couldn't go through with the key change because Raines locked her mind. My mom would have driven her to insanity, like you are on the verge of. I've seen that room, Parker!"**_

_**"I can hold onto this conversation a little while because of my will, but I can't do it forever. You do that, you make me remember, then I could go insane. Just take me back, Jarod, please!"**_

_**"Quiet." Jarod picked up his phone and dialed his mother. As soon as he heard her pick up. "Ten changes per minute, quick one time test results."**_

_**"Miss Parker the ten, or the other?"**_

_**"Miss Parker."**_

_**"The other is in much more control. I don't know how much more she could take. It's best to let Miss Parker go, Jarod."**_

_**"You don't understand. Why doesn't anyone understand?" Jarod pulled his head closer to the wheel. "Mom? These are lives I save. Men, women and children! Everyone I saved before, that was affected, they're going to die. They're going to get hurt. They're going to suffer. The tattoos aren't good enough. The flashbacks I get, they aren't good enough!"**_

_**"You can't take her anymore, Jarod. I know it's hard but give her back to the other key. You are going to make her suffer the other way. Her state is too difficult to transition in. A time traveling mind is not something to mess with. Let her rest. Let her go."**_

_**Jarod looked at her. She was practically sobbing in the seat next to him. "If I had kept her?" He asked his mom seriously. "If I never separated from her?"**_

_**"A few bumps, but you would have had her back. She will need more than a few bumps to come back to you now, Jarod. I can hear her crying in the background. Does that sound like the strength of your Miss Parker?"**_

_**"I need to at least." He looked for a pen and paper. A small memo book. "Stay with her long enough to remember something of the future."**_

_**"She'll have already suffered too much. There's no time. Get her back to the other key."**_

_**Jarod slammed the wheel. "It's not fair!" Life was never fair to him.**_

_**"One day, the Miss Parker you knew will be gone forever. She will be a being with no prior knowledge of anything before her key. Not just the future, her current past too. All the suffering, it will be gone. The blessing of the unlocking key. Maybe that will help you. I know you want to save the whole world, Jarod. But is it worth the sanity of your only friend to make it easier for you to do that? The key's been chosen."**_

_**"He's not gonna be good! He didn't even have the courage to face me to take her!" Jarod complained. "He can't do it, Mom. He already married her via computer, or told her that, so she won't gain interest in anyone else! He's deceiving her like she's a prize too!"**_

**_"Jarod. She's a big girl, and she'll make her own decisions as she grows up. Meanwhile, she'll live a good life. I hear she's in __Miami__?"_**

_**"Jerk is using his knowledge to play the stocks probably." Jarod relented. "He'll make enough, and he's probably smart enough. Maybe. She said he was her computer guy in the future." He could hold on. "What if he can't take care of her?"**_

_**"Then The Centre will provide a more expedited death than the torture of her mind, Jarod. I'm sorry. Say goodbye, Jarod."**_

_**Jarod hung up the phone and looked over to her. So cute. Her hair was so cute like that. She'd grow up that way. Cute and happy. No guns. No Centre. Not even liking 'the B word'.**_

_**"Jarod?" she said weakly. "Broots?"**_

**_"You'd never leave with me." Jarod sighed. "We left The Centre too young, but it helped so much," he admitted to her. "You saved my brother's life by doing that. You saved __Sydney__ and Nicholas grief from not knowing about each other. Ethan and Emily grew up knowing their older brothers. And my mom? I never even had a chance to talk to her in the other time I read. I don't want to know how any of that pain felt." He picked up the phone. "I guess I never have to worry about that. You have a good life." He couldn't do it._**

_**He just couldn't do it. He'd have to work harder, do what he could. But this was it. He had to let her go. He dialed Broots number again and spoke as soon as he heard it pick up. "Nearest self-service, South side. Be grateful for what you stole from me, and if you lose her, there isn't a rock you can hide under!" He hung it back up.**_

_**"He'll take care of me, Jarod. I know my computer guy." She was clearly Miss Parker again. At least for a little while. "I always know what guys are up to, but you know him too. The future you know him in, he's harmless. He's just my little pin cushion head who always wanted to be there for me. It's what he does." Then, her looked changed toward him again. "Did he answer?"**_

_**"You better be okay."**_

_**"I will." She nodded vigorously. "Thanks, Jarod. I don't know what the problem is between you two, but thank you."**_

_**"He's coming," Jarod said again, to make sure 'Charity' heard it too.**_

_**When he arrived, Jarod saw him get out of the car. He looked toward Charity one more time. "Have a good life. Keep finding what makes you happy," he said, "and have fun." She nodded and got out.**_

_**Broots. Spooked but okay, not very far away. She was so relieved to see-**_

_**The scream was so loud that the name she shouted was almost lost to it. Jarod immediately got out of the car and ran to Charity.**_

_**She was sobbing on the ground next to Broots, who was shot. Jarod looked around. There were no other cars, just his and Broots.**_

_**"That thing we were practicing?" Broots chest was beating rapidly as she hugged him with all her might. "Hope you get it one day."**_

_**Jarod ran toward her, trying to pull her up.**_

_**"No, Broots!" She begged Jarod. "I have to help Broots!"**_

_**"The puncture is too far over, The Centre knows what its doing!" He pulled her away, having to force his strength on her to make her move. He yanked and pulled, but him and Miss Parker were both dead set on strength. He could overcome her if her adrenaline wasn't keeping her down.**_

_**Raines came over toward them.**_

**_"Run, boy, or you'll get blamed for murder. It'll pull every member of your family out into __America__'s spotlight. I won't kill her," Raines insisted. "Go before I change my mind." He held his gun out on Jarod. "Go."_**

_**A car started driving fast right at Raines, so he had to move. Jarod crawled into the car, knowing he had no choice. The car took off again down the streets high speed before Jarod even closed the door.**_

* * *

"Huh." The thoughts were coming so fast. _Broots. He gets killed. _The Centre wouldn't be too far behind. _Change something different. _Make a change right away, get them off of that path. Belly dancing. They were in the middle of talking. She was going to mention the last name and Jarod was going to demand his numbers and the chain would start. They wouldn't do anything until then. _Got it. _Jarod was a healthy eighteen year old. "I'm a real quick study," she continued as she started belly dancing like it was a harmless thing right there in the parking lot. "I read a book on it." She gave the same angles and treatment as she did Broots. "I'm still not that strong, I need to strengthen my core muscles, but I think I'm getting better. What do you think, Jarod?" She heard someone whistle at her but she ignored it.

"Uh?! You're a quick study, that's good!" Jarod said, almost a little too loud. "Just, don't try so hard. You're, um, not legal – seventeen! -I mean, with a whole life ahead of you. Just? Stretch your legs after all. I mean, to walk. Go walk. I have to use the bathroom, be back."

That was a good change. Now that she had him off her case, she could scope around the place while he dealt with the intrusions she caused. It didn't take long to spot it. Jarod was already coming back. She started to signal to him as he approached faster. "We need to get going, Jarod, I just saw a Centre car." She barely registered how fast he grabbed her hand to take her back to the car. He didn't answer or ask any questions as he started it and took off. And she meant took off. _Damn, Jarod! _ Last time he took off from Broots, he had merely been acting like he was outrunning The Centre. This time, he wasn't acting. "That's a corner," she complained as she held onto her seat, "not your grandma you need to hug that close!"

Jarod ignored her as he continued driving. Flashing lights wouldn't be too far behind soon. He cut them down through several sideway streets, looped back around, and cut through several more.

She didn't have any idea where they were at that point. "Jarod!"

"Hang on." He was checking all the mirrors, making sure everything looked better. "Okay. I think we lost them." He looked back at the gas. "Good thing I didn't run it to empty before pulling over." He pulled over to another gas station, this one full service. He was still scoping it out, making sure he'd be able to duck out of the line if he had to. "Roll your window up."

Charity grabbed the window handle and rolled up the window.

"So?" He smiled. "You recognize Centre cars? Does that mean your memory got jogged?"

_Memory._ If she explained it the same way, it would cause the same thing all over again. Like it or not, painful or not, she was with Jarod now. The Centre was most likely following Broots until they found the right moment to strike. She still double looked outside the car. _Memory. _He was still waiting on her answer. "I um."_ Don't do the coin, and don't get overexcited. You'll drive Charity to get overexcited. Things will happen. _It was best to start working on . . . switching keys. She reached for his free hand, startling him for a moment. "It's different than yours and Broots. It's more like . . ." _Come on, hold._ "Like alzheimer's."

"Alzheimer's?" Still, he moved his hand over hers.

"When I'm Charity I can't remember if I shut the refrigerator door. Then when I become my old self it's like, 'yeah, I did'." Okay. That was terrible, the coin was much better, but the focus wasn't going to stay there. She undid her seat belt and sat closer to Jarod. It was all about proximity with time. "But it's not the refrigerator door, it's the future."

"Oh. Sure." He cleared his throat. "Yeah."

Now, stir him away for a little while. "Your getaway skills were scary but impressive, Jarod. I don't think Broots could have ever done that. I'd probably be dead right now if it wasn't for you." She was as close as could be. _Come on, it should be hitting him soon._

"Yeah, well, I still technically run a lot." His voice though went up slightly an octave before fixing itself. "So you remember and forget a lot?" Jarod asked to get the facts straight. "Okay, I get that. Quick flashbacks, not much help," he said as he leaned his arms on the driving wheel. "How long until we start remembering? Does it take days?"

"The longer the time change, the closer you have to get," she said. A part of her still wanted to go to Broots. She wouldn't be able to hold Charity back for long. "My forgetful side only knows Broots best. Watch her until she gets better. About four days, so tell her that you called him and that you're meeting him somewhere. I'll write down his number. Got a pen?" Jarod gave her a pen. Instead of asking for paper, she took his hand away, opened up his palm and penned the number. _Come on, Jarod, I won't have deep memory for long. How much closer we gotta get already?_

"Will do." Still, Jarod looked at her oddly. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she said as she put the pen on the dashboard. "I have his name for the scam too. My idea to get away from Parker." Complete lie, but the further she kept Jarod from blaming Broots, the better.

"You don't. You don't feel fine," Jarod said, a little concerned. He didn't even care about the last name. "I think you're nice, Miss Parker. Really. Really nice," he said a little breathless, "but I get this feeling you might be getting attracted 'cause of all the adrenaline running through you at the moment. And, I? I can't take advantage of that."

Great. _Right next to him, of course he's thinking that at this age. _"I just wanted to show you appreciation for saving me. That's all." She grabbed his hand again. "And, maybe, after just being at my house, safe and sound, just a random ordinary day, and having you just grab me and start running from The Centre? I'm just . . ."

"Oh. Oh, yeah!" Now he seemed to get what she was going for. Comfort. "Yeah, of course. I went there expecting The Centre, you didn't and this is all sudden for you." He wrapped his arm around her. "Of course! I'm good at placing myself in other people's shoes, I can't believe I- Sorry, Charity. It all happened so fast on you."

And then he almost turned the wheel out of line as his head got hit with the information she knew it would. She grabbed the wheel, ready for the change.

He regrabbed the wheel. "Well." Yep, there was that future sour face she remembered. "All this time looking for you, and _Mister_ Broots had you the whole time." No points for Broots now, but he didn't dwell on it as much. "Are you remembering now too?"

_Finally. _Alright. "Did you really think I was that scared, or throwing myself at you?" Now she could scold him. "Puh-lease. The closer I stayed, the faster you'd remember," she said. "Broots had my mom's notes."

"Ah." Jarod looked ahead, tapping on the steering wheel. "Didn't feel like sharing those notes, did he?"

"Keys rarely jingle together so just be happy it wasn't Sydney." _Easy, Parker. _"How is Sydney?"

"Sydney's great," Jarod informed her. "Growing up to be a great dad. Knew he'd be. He helped raise Ethan for a little while too. We all thought something was wrong with him. Didn't understand the voices." She could hear the bitterness oozing out. "It's hard not remembering, that would have been great to know. That he was just hearing his mom's voice, and he was okay." He looked back at her. "My mom was scared you'd been around Broots too much. I'm glad to see you're okay, Miss Parker. Or Charity?"

"Whatever you want," she said. She didn't really care much about names at this point. "I've been called everything including Miss Jamison." She noticed his look. "What?"

"Jamison was your mom's maiden name," Jarod noted. "Who called you Miss Jamison?"

"Oh." She looked at the line. Almost up. "I just knew Parker was a problem."

"You just said you took Broots last name. Right?" Now Jarod was starting to show a response to what she said earlier. "Why exactly did you do that?"

"Let me ask you something, Jarod?" She needed to put it in perspective. "You go to a new city, a new town, and you only have two people living together. A kid and an older teen, not even twenty. What do you come up with?"

"I would say that our parents died and that I was all my little sister had to keep her out of a foster home." That was easy. "I wouldn't pretend I was married to her."

"Which was easier to make happen in the 70's?" She pointed out. "In one, girl could run away with boy, anyone would believe that. With your choice-"

"Not that much more difficult for someone like Mister Broots, and I'm still waiting for who called you Miss Jamison."

Oh no one could pull off anything on Jarod once he was concentrating on it. "Broots at first because he didn't want me to feel trapped."

"Oh." That made Jarod seem to lighten up. "He wasn't calling you by his last name?"

"Broots is still Broots, Jarod. Stop trying to play protector, it's annoying and stupid," she reminded him. "I could kick his rear end if I wanted to. So could you."

"Rear end?" He smiled. "He _did _influence you, didn't he? Good achievement."

"Oh put a sock in it," she answered. "Anyhow, I mean come on? Yeah. He had a little thing for me before. When he first picked me up I was still a kid. Huge difference, in more than just age." She looked at herself. "Thank goodness I grew into myself finally."

"You did at that." Jarod didn't add much more than that as he talked to the attendant. It shouldn't take long now.

She heard him get on his phone again.

"I found her," he said on it. Most likely talking to his mother or Sydney or somebody. "No, she's okay. She explained it well. I think we'll be okay. Nah, I'm sure she'll be fine. Okay. Bye. Yes. Love you, Mom." He hung up the phone. "That woman can squeal with laughter."

"So what's the plan? What do you want?" Like she didn't already know. "If you take me from Broots, you better have a good idea of where you're stashing me."

"No stashing. I'm 18," Jarod said. "I filled in too," he said using her words. "So I can fake older sometimes with the right clothes. It's all about the frame and how you present yourself."

"Yeah. A life of hotels and constant road," she groaned. "What if I just meet you for an hour every two weeks? That'd give you . . ."

"No way, I am not risking it," Jarod insisted. "It took me years to locate you, I thought you were dead. Sydney thought you were dead. You never turned up, and I barely saw his damn car!" He hit the steering wheel. "No phone call, no way to leave a message, just up and out you go. Did you go with him willingly, did you tell him not to take you or were you unconscious?"

"Oh. Let's see." She looked thoughtful for a moment. "Where were you going to stick me?"

"I would have found a place," Jarod said. "Possibly Sydney. I was working on it."

"Hm? Okay." She cleared her throat. "Let's see here. Um. Was I unconscious when he took me? Well, you are really trying to pull the strings here, Jarod. If I say yes, you'll give Broots even more problems. If I say no, then you'll be lashing out at me." She rubbed her eye gently. "What do you think? Honestly?"

"Honestly?" Jarod nodded his head slow, one time. "I'm beginning to think it was both."

"Ding, ding, ding," she answered. "There's that genius wit."

"Can we really not start this now?" Jarod asked. "We managed to live for a month together without killing each other."

She stayed quiet. "You just remembered, so you didn't invest in anything yet. Living off of The Centre's money you stole still?"

"No, I gave most of that to my parents," Jarod said. "It's not easy keeping your family hidden, yet still healthy enough that they can integrate with the world later on. It helped a lot."

"Then where are you mugging money from?" she asked.

"I'm not mugging money. I work pretends between everything, I just stay for the first actual paycheck now," he admitted.

"I don't know where any extra DSA's are," she said out of the blue. "I can't really help you there at all."

"Yeah, I imagine they got pulled away quickly," Jarod said, "and that's fine. As long as you stay near me and I can remember, then everything's good." He drummed on the steering wheel lightly. "You don't have to worry. I promise."

"About what?" she asked.

"The Triumvirate, The Centre, Raines or having to go to a homeless shelter," Jarod said softly. "Just stay with me, and I promise I'll take care of you."

She felt her stomach tighten inside. "You don't get it, I don't want to be near you, I want to go back to Broots once you shake The Centre. Just work something out, visitations to me so you can get whatever to remember whatever!" Because that's all she was. Some kind of energy to them. Some kind of precious resource, a gemstone prize to the victor between them.

"I can't shoot over to Miami every single day," Jarod muttered, "just to see you, in order to keep my memories and save people."

"If you just agree, Broots will get rentals in different cities for you," she tried again.

"I don't always stay near cities. That isn't going to work," Jarod insisted.

"Well, geez, Jarod! Isn't that why you got tattoos in the first place?" she complained.

"I can't just put an entire memory for each sim on my back. The Centre is still out there, just like before. I can't put everything out on display, they'll find me. It's just time and place, and it's not good enough. It's nowhere near good enough." He looked back at her. "You'll be okay."

"I've heard that before from you!" Ooh. She was starting to lose it. She moved back over to her passenger side and put her seat belt back on. "Broots called me Miss Jamison, but he stopped and moved to Charity because I told him to. Because I wanted him to associate me with the last name Broots." There. That got a look from Jarod. "What? Are you really shocked? After going through all that hell with you, spending time out on the streets, being unmoveable on my own for almost a year? Waiting 'til I'm 18, then I will gladly marry Broots."

"I told you, Parker, I will take care of you. I won't let anything bad happen to you, but you have to stay with me. I need these memories more than him. He doesn't need them for anything but knowing when and where to invest!"

"Okay, just, give me a minute," she said sarcastically. "Maybe I can pretend to _care_."

"These can be easier times or harder times," Jarod answered her. "Either way, you are staying with me. Not Broots."

She looked at her fingernails. "I'll just run away later to him. Can't watch me and play pretend at the same time forever."

Jarod groaned. "Boy, you just love to lord over me with the fact that you have all the cards." Angry boy. "Fine. What can I do to make you not run away?"

She thought about that a second. "Kill Raines."

"I'm not a killer," Jarod said.

"Then I'll just run away." She should have trimmed her nails better. She yawned.

"Great." Jarod paid the attendant and started to take off again. "Hopefully Charity comes back soon. At least she's reasonable."

Damn. That hurt. She was trying to hurt him too, to get him to back off, but that comment hurt worse than he knew. Except that he picked up on it.

"I hit a sore spot," Jarod said. "Sorry, I didn't think that would hurt as bad."

"Nothing hurts." She tried to lie it off. "How many sims do you have to do?"

"I was still in there for some time. Not into adulthood, but into teens. I have a lot to make up for," Jarod said.

"Get paper. Take your time and your place, and add in the summary details you need to have. After you finish those, then come back and see me to use me again." Maybe that would work.

"Use you?" Jarod apparently didn't like her choice of words. "I'm not using you. You're the one trying to use _me_. Hell, you're even trying to use Broots. I don't even know who the bad guy is anymore."

"That would be me, I'm always the bad guy. Just wrong gender you mess up on," she answered. "Always the baaaad girl. Worse than you think." Nail in the coffin. "Even in my condition in the tunnels, If I knew he could get extra pudding, I would have slept with Angelo to get it. So you can bet I sure as hell am getting back to Broots."

"You're! I can't!" Jarod half covered his face. He probably would have fully covered it if he wasn't driving now. "Behave yourself."

"Sure, sure," she said in a definitely not honest manner. "Your brother taught me to bellydance."

"Aware," Jarod said. "He's not always the best role model."

"Does he have money?" Oh, that would burn. "Just curious. He's a Pretender too. Maybe he's actually using his skill for _something_ useful."

"Behave yourself!" Jarod yelled.

She quieted down. "I'll be good."

* * *

That didn't sound normal. "Charity?" Jarod asked. No, she wasn't responding to that name. "What do you want me to call you?" Jarod asked. Her eyes just darted around.

"Whatever you like," she answered.

Hm. That wasn't the bubbly personality from before either. "Miss Jamison or Miss Parker?"

"LMP. That was me. It was me. I shouldn't be here. Broots? Momma?"

"Your mother's not here anymore," Jarod said to her. Maybe his mom was right, this transitioning did look tough. "Broots isn't here either."

"Broots!" She started to shelter her face with her hands. "He was killed! I was taken back to The Centre!" She looked toward Jarod, petrified. "You look like the boy. You're an illusion though, aren't you?"

"I'm Jarod," he said. "Transition is tough, but I'm here. Okay?" She nodded. "Good. I'm not here to hurt you, just help."

"You can't help. Nobody can help! Where is Broots? Where is my key?" She looked around the back seat. "Where is he?"

"I'm your key now," Jarod insisted. "You're just in a transition." He sighed, realizing he wasn't being careful enough. Everything Parker had been saying was probably stirred up by the transition too, and it didn't help when he made the Charity statement. That had really hurt her, he saw it written across her whole face after he said that.

Miss Parker and Charity were two separate beings. Jarod had no problem when he could or couldn't remember. He didn't really feel like a separate person from himself. But Miss Parker? She seemed totally different.

"Momma didn't say I was switching keys," she said. "You were supposed to go back to your family. Momma found Broots. I shouldn't be here." She shook her head. "She won't be happy! I don't want her to be so hurt again. I'd do anything not to have that happen again. Where is Broots?"

"It's okay. Your mother isn't here anymore," he tried again. "She never met Broots. She died way too young to ever meet him."

"Yes she did. She met him. She found him. She brought him to me."

"No," Jarod corrected her. "Your mother died when she had Ethan."

"No," she corrected him. "That was the day I did things," she said oddly. "The day I lost her respect, and I've been trying to gain it back ever since. Alive, but I can't feel her sweet presence anymore. Did I jump? Did I jump again?"

Jump again? "You don't know how to move on," Jarod informed her. _She's going insane. _

"Yes I do. Certain moments in time. Like momma said. Time is my filly. It can go through mountains and rivers, but when it's under my branch, I can jump and ride her."

That sounded like something her mother would say. "Did she say that on the video?"

"No. No. She told me, between you two. Trying to make me move on again. I just wanted her to stay, but she made me move on again. Again. Always moving. Always looking for different . . ." She blinked and then looked around. "Jarod? Did I give you Broots number?"

Charity. "Yeah, Charity." Okay, transitioning. His mom warned him it wouldn't be easy on the mind. But, damn. She sounded like she was going insane. "We'll meet him next week. Until then, I'll take care of you. Okay?"

* * *

**Miss Parker Remembers: The original time of the 90's and going back in time to 1973. She also starts to realize that this isn't the first time she's time traveled. Her memory is interrupting her, showing her that she tried to commit suicide but wished to see Jarod and the rabbits again and was taken back to a younger age. She also seems to see Jarod's side of the events, and she doesn't know how. She killed Raines to save Ethan too in the past. After doing this, she opens her eyes and realizes it is now 2001. Her mother is still alive, and she made a big mistake killing Raines. Her old self could not live harmoniously with what she had done. Now she has a child and must decide whether staying in Paris with Broots and her mom is the right thing, while Jarod is on the other side telling her it's wrong. However? The world is just too much of a fantasy, it wasn't what she knew or created and like it or not, she leaves back in time and relives everything _again_, hopefully not making the same mistake. Which is why her memory just triggered. She is taking the initiative to take the walk and runs into Broots. Broots is her 'other key' and instead of holding her memory, he unlocks it all.  
**

**She lives in Florida until 1977 when Jarod comes for her. At first she remembers nothing, but then her deep inner sense kicks in, like it did once before showing her that she had traveled back in time again. In the other time, Broots got shot, Jarod bailed with his brother, and Raines had her. She found a way back again, relived it all over again, and was right back to the trigger moment. She changed appropriately as she could to make Jarod less skeptical.**

**Miss Parker is also split now in two. Charity, which is her more innocent self Broots raised, and her old self with full memories.**

**Jarod: Just the basics of that time, but his memory kicks in at the end so that he remember t****he original time of the 90's and going back in time to 1973.  
**

**Broots: His memory now stays intact, remembering the 90's and the current years he now lived in the past (1973-1977)**


	20. Coke and Pink Floyd

Charity was easy to get along with at first, but whenever she phased into transitioning, the weirdest things popped out of her mouth. Jarod ignored it, understanding it was just how her brain was learning how to process her own memories again. In the meantime, Jarod already had several chew out sessions with Broots. So, when the week came up, he would be letting Charity go.

Charity was a good person. More like how she used to be before all the corruption of The Centre. She was subtly starting to change, but she didn't give Jarod many problems at all. He finished eating his sandwich as he handed over the phone to Charity. It wasn't the first time he'd done that.

"Broots?" She said on the phone. "Hi! Oh, I'm fine. Yeah, I've been with Jarod. No, I'm eating fine. We're good. Aw, well I miss you too." She rubbed her nose. "So, what do you think of what Jarod said? Uh huh."

Jarod bit into his sandwich again. Parker had been close with what she was saying, but it would take more than an hour. He needed to take a couple days at least, and then remember to write down full summaries of what the sims had been. From the people involved, the possible trouble spots, etcetera. Then he could go out and do his thing. In the meantime, Broots needed to stay on the other side of his place. Not exactly a problem, Broots didn't skimp out on the house. In the end, this way he wouldn't have to keep Charity around him constantly, nor did Broots have to give up his comfy lifestyle he'd made for himself.

"You know, my birthday is less than a year away," Charity said. "So I was thinking? If you want to marry me and hit it on my eighteenth with the Kama Sutra when it comes up, I'll let you if you kill Raines."

Jarod immediately dropped the sandwich and grabbed the phone from her. "Forget that!" he yelled into the phone. He stared at Charity.

"What is it, Jarod? I didn't curse, did I?" Charity asked.

"Miss Parker." Jarod looked at his fallen sandwich on the floor. "Welcome back."

"There is _no_ welcome back. Charity is me," she said. "She was me when I couldn't remember the future, and now I always remember the future." She shrugged. "She isn't somebody different. I am not somebody different. I just regained half of myself."

Hm. "Why are you teasing Broots on the phone like that?"

"It's not a tease," she said. "I'm serious. I'll give him_ anything_ he wants if he kills Raines."

Jarod ducked his head. _Alright, Jarod. Think about this. What is she trying to do? _If she wasn't teasing Broots, why did she want to get married in the future to him? She knew the future, she could get into the market and make her own money. He already told her that. So, why? _Try again. Maybe there's still some kind of delay between her memory. _"You don't have to marry him, you have access to future data too."

"Yeah, I know, we went through this like twenty minutes ago when you tried to talk me out of mentioning it on the phone." She leaned back more. "You were right, the offer wasn't as solid yet. That Kama Sutra probably helped kick it up."

_Okay. I'm Parker, I'm a seventeen year old girl who wants to marry a 23 year old. I can take care of myself in the future so it's not money related. Is it family? Is it trust? _No, because she dropped that last part real quick and never mentioned it before. Jarod thought Raines kept her immobile, unwashed, and there were some cigarette burns. Jarod had been through real torture though, with Lyle. _Scumbag. _Maybe he was missing something? Maybe he did something else to her she couldn't forgive? "What did Raines do to you before I rescued you at The Centre?"

She didn't seem too phased. "I don't know, too messed up by the injections." She groaned. "I told you, most of the time I was with Angelo and he was good to me."

"Then why do you want someone to kill Raines so bad? I know you, if it were so important, you'd have done it yourself without even telling anyone."

"Because." She took a deep breath. "I can't. Not after the last time."

"The last time what?" Jarod asked.

"If you ask me later, I won't know. It's rare that I remember SL3."

"SL3?" Jarod asked curiously. "What about SL3?"

"It's deep memory. It's the deepest memory. Memories you nor Broots will ever know except during the highest of emergencies." She gripped the side of her seat. "What do you remember happening to us when you brought me back from The Centre?"

"Angelo and I carried you in," he said. "You talked a little about keys in your sleep while I was trying to figure out things with Sydney. You went unconscious. I got you food and you woke up. You didn't want to talk and Angelo and I faded off. I woke up to the sound of screeching car tires." His voice got hard. "I rushed outside but I barely saw the color before it even turned. I tried to run, but by the time I got to that same area. Long gone."

"Decent summary. I'm thirsty. Would have got something if we had cupholders."

"Not a whole lot I can do about that," Jarod said. "Can you stop stalling?"

"Fine." She took a deep breath and exhaled. "Remember. I don't always have deep memory so don't ask me questions, and no, if I don't write about it, I am not answering it." She held out her hand. "Okay. Give me a sheet of paper and a pencil."

Jarod gave her a small memo pad and a pen from behind his dashboard. She started to write. She flipped the memo pad and continued writing. She flipped another page and continued writing.

"Just by chance, Jarod?" She asked as she continued to write. "Your heads a weird one. What does it mean when a guy puts a boombox over his head toward a girl?"

" . . . I don't know that one," he answered, wanting to see her paper already.

"Culturally, it comes from the movies. Boy always does it with Peter Gabriel's In My Eyes." She flipped the memo pad again. "If that song was changed into Train's Drops of Jupiter, what does that mean?"

"Oh, I know that song." Yep. "It came out while I was out of The Centre the first time around."

"Well, so what does a boombox move with Train's song mean?" she asked him.

"Good question." Jarod sat back and thought about it for a little while. He remained quiet. Then? "It's tough to answer accurately. I don't know the lyrics to the song or what they were written for or about, and I don't know the 'boombox move' you are referencing, Although I did see it a couple of times in some shows. Combining the fact that neither the boombox move nor Train's song has been written or performed yet, then I can't even go to a credible source for the answer."

"You didn't even know what the song was about? Are you kidding me?" She flipped the next paper in the pad again. "What about um? Pink Floyd."

"Are you kidding? I love Pink Floyd!" Jarod reached into a bookbag in the back and drug out a ton of tapes. "I even have shirts of Pink Floyd. All kinds. That band is incredible. I mean? We didn't have much to listen to at home. Couldn't get real loud," he confessed. "Dad got some tapes though, and Dark Side of the Moon was our favorite. When we couldn't be very, very loud we could sit up close, keep it turned down, and listen to the softer songs and introductions and it's so much more than vocal. You could get up real close and listen." He realized he was starting to get a little out of control. "Sorry. What is it you want to know about Pink Floyd?"

"The last song on Dark Side of the Moon. With a boombox over your head," she said. "What's that mean?"

"Eclipse? Oh, best way to end. Yeah. That whole thing, summed up in eclipse." Didn't take long for him to get it. "A boombox over my head with . . . eclipse . . ." He gave her an odd look but he didn't answer the question. "Kyle saw your wall. From what he told me, only one specific thing was a historical landmark event. Lennon. The rest were movies and songs. Even those weren't perfect, you had a question mark on Saturday Night Fever."

"Fine, showoff," she answered back as she flipped another memo. "What do you want from me? I fall in the range of normal human being."

"Actually, you-" She tossed the memo pad to him finally. He'd finish that thought later as he picked it up to read it.

Jarod didn't say anything for a little while. He read through each page.

Then read it back slower.

Then checked out the last two pages, twice over. He never would have guessed.

And came to the conclusion? Deep memory was like a hell, and it was good she didn't have to suffer it for long.

He put the memo aside and looked at her. She wrote what she could, including her own mother's words and actions. The three rhymes she used to sing with her mother. She explained SL1-SL4, Wrote the train song lyrics, gave a brief summary of Say Anything where the boombox trend began, as well as the minor events between that were affected and changed everything. For instance? For some reason, Jarod figured out 'Miss A' needed help with Ethan later than before. With his goals and intentions, that would have thrown his planning up faster, in which he probably wouldn't have waited for the dependability of the person he knew he could trust for his back. Hence, no tattoos.

Subtle. Slightly different, yet for all he knew, it could be the difference between good or bad events.

She looked back, almost challenging him to tell her she was crazy.

"The last time I would have seen you, would have been over rabbits since your mom wouldn't have wanted us associating again." Jarod started to reason it out. "As I grew up, I'd want to know who saved me and _why_. Why is a real big thing with me. What led to everything. With your mom alive, different paths and resources would be found over time." He paused. "I'm sure I searched for you," he said. "Using pictures and anything I could to track you down." He would have searched for her the same way he had searched for his family before. Instead of missing his family, he was looking desperately for the missing Miss Parker. "Then I find you, but with Broots." He slumped. "He made sure I couldn't hold memories long, so I couldn't be a key. I knew though when I arrived I'd have only a little bit of time to remember."

He was using his own Pretender skill on himself. Trying to figure out what he would do. In a world so different from his own, different experiences, he was trying the best he could. "I would only have a short amount of time to convince you to undo what happened, and if I had discovered why a ten year old caused a massacre, I'd have a good idea of what I was up against. A brick wall when it came to loving your mom. You lived in a time with your mother, alive, but there was something wrong." He waved his index fingers back and forth. She only placed 'lost in SL4' but it was more than that. "_Especially_ if I played Eclipse. You lost_ yourself_. Didn't you?"

She shrugged. "Yeah, I guess you could say that. I don't ever remember anything from before that meeting. Nothing. It's blank, like nothing happened."

"No, no." It was more than that, much more. Jarod needed her to understand it. "Charity is just a name and I would _never _sculpt you," he insisted. "No matter how good I'd want you to be Parker, or how much I'd rather you do this or that? I would never change you."

"I really need to stretch my legs," she insisted. "We're just sitting in a car talking. We are always in here, we need to go or get out." She chose get out.

Jarod chose it too, but the conversation wasn't over yet. He closed the door and started to catch up to her. "Broots sculpted you into what he wanted you to be in that time. You weren't yourself; you just woke up thirty years later in a life you wouldn't have chosen. Done things you never would have done."

"It wasn't Broots' fault," she stood up for him. "I'm the one who did it. He can't send me to SL4."

"But if you lose yourself, and you are with Broots, then you stay in SL4. Which is why you want someone to kill Raines." Jarod gestured to the pad. "You didn't write anymore."

"You can guess the rest. I wanted to stay with her, but the world was so different and you kept egging me on that I couldn't . . ." She touched the side of her forehead. She shook her hands, like she was trying to grip onto what she was saying. "I _wanted _to stay with her more than anything, but I didn't know that world, so I couldn't . . . keep it real enough." She walked a short ways. "Her voice kept trying to take me to something that felt more real."

Jarod tagged along slowly. "Ten years old. Shooting everyone, Parker."

"Yes, yes, a big fat 'you did wrong', I get it, but I didn't care by that point! The deeper it went. The less . . . real everything feels. Numb. Just, far."

Jarod couldn't criticize or scold. He couldn't say it wasn't wrong, it definitely had been. She shouldn't have done that, ever, but she paid for it. "You wound yourself back again, and those memories are a step too deep to always keep." He moved more toward the side of her as she stopped. "They only show up when they matter again."

"Yeah," she said, still wiping her eyes. "Otherwise, I'm pretty much either stuck as Parker with you, or Charity with Broots."

"No," Jarod said to her. "Names have no meaning as to who you are, and I'm sorry I tried to distinguish you with that." He bumped her shoulder playfully. "You're not a good girl or a bad girl. Just a girl." He leaned in closer to her face. "You're a groovy chick."

"Just because I can do the hustle doesn't mean I'm a groovy chick." She pointed at him. "Don't tell people I can do the hustle."

Jarod didn't answer right away. "My best guess is that move Boombox Jarod was trying to signal to you, was that he had feelings that he didn't know or could understand because he didn't know you? But he knew, that he _should_ know you. Probably, glimpses. What mom calls déjà vu." Yet. "Even now, I can't say that for sure. I'm not that Jarod." He pressed his hand on his heart. "I'm _this _Jarod."

"Jarod is Jarod is Jarod," she said. "Parker is Parker is Parker. Everything stays the same until it gets messed up."

"Jarod isn't always Jarod," Jarod said. He leaned on a tree they were starting to pass. "I know what you mean by not feeling real. I remember the future. I remember it vividly. When we first came back, my only goal was to get everything I couldn't get last time. I wanted my mom. I wanted my family. I wanted to save as many as I could too," he confessed. "That was my goal. As time went by, even when I remembered, it changed me though. It wasn't just a wish, I was here, for the long haul. I experienced the seventies, not just through the media sims of the times. Firsthand, the culture, as it changed. I lived with my family and I realized it wasn't all I ever wanted or expected. I ended up leaving again when I was just 17." He shrugged. "By that time, pretty sure the Jarod I had been before would have been ready to strangle me for that."

Her eyes widened at that one. "Are you kidding me? All you ever wanted was your family, and you left?"

"I still communicate. I still love them," he said. "I love my mom, my dad, my little sister, and my brothers. All of them," Jarod confessed. "Even without knowing the future, The Centre had changed our lives. The ways we had to live. The rules I had to tolerate. My father's . . ." he kind of waved his hand. "Major Charles is a great dad but a tough one. He makes rules with no input from anybody, and my mom? I love her, oh, I really do." He emphasized it. "She has a gift, but she won't use it. She won't stand up to Dad, she works around, wiggles her way to try and get my father onboard. If it doesn't happen, she doesn't fight it for long."

"Well, you saw the fun of family firsthand. Thrilling, huh?" She went around the other side of the tree.

"Everything, Parker. The longer I've been here, the less I've felt like that Jarod." Jarod shook his head. "I don't feel like I'm in my later years. I have the memories, and I definitely remember the emotions running through me, but I still feel eighteen, I feel good, and I would _never _want to change and go back for anything." He glanced to her. "If you were to drop me back into 2019, it would be tough to adjust again. That would feel like the dream. A tired dream."

"Yeah. Um. Starting to lose SL3. Won't remember this conversation soon. We should probably get back to the car now," she warned him.

"Can I ask about events that weren't in it?" Jarod asked. "Just real quick? How many times have things changed, where you went back further again?"

"Twice at least but I don't really know," she admitted. "I don't know if it happens again, and you should know I still have my own mysteries. Even when I don't remember SL3, somewhere along the line?" She paused. "I got a tattoo on my own body. No idea why or how. It says 'Make Someone Else Kill Raines'."

"Really? Where?"

"Can't show you," she said.

"Oof." He chuckeld. "You do _not_ make it easy at 18, do you?"

"I didn't even say anything. You let your own little imagination take off there." Still she did smile. "Sorry too. I originally gave you Broots number right away. I acted differently with you in the car, less emotional. Your mom made you accept things. Broots was killed, you would have been framed for murder, and Kyle was tailing you for the sake of your mom. He got you. I was sent to The Centre . . . and it's fading after that and it's a _good_ thing. I don't like to go deep. It's."

"It's fine, you don't have to talk about it anymore. Let's head to the car." He got off the tree with her and started to walk. "By the way? Just one small, tiny detail?"

"No, you don't need to know how Broots secured me for good in that other time," she insisted.

Shucks. "Why not?" He turned back, landing right in front of her. "Come on. Be a sport? Why did Boombox Jarod not get a chance to be your key?" She didn't want to share. "Embarrassing? Strange?"

"Stop guessing. I won't remember soon anyhow," she insisted.

"You know I am a smartee," he said. "I'll figure it out. If you just tell me, I have an extra coke in the car. It's yours? Or are you just gonna wait and make me figure it out? One way, Coke. One way, no Coke."

"Damn. I'm thirsty." She groaned. "Brilliant mind probably . . . fine." She rolled her eyes. "A key and a heart make a puzzle key, where's the coke?"

"A key and a heart make a puzzle key? That word was in Catherine Parker's rhyme. What is it?" Jarod asked.

"How am I supposed to know what a puzzle key is, Jarod?" she asked. "Have you heard of one?" She looked introspective. "Puzzles are solved one piece at a time, so I don't know what that means."

_She slipped out of SL3. _"Nevermind." She just remembered normally now, no backtracking. Her memories were now similar to his, only on the surface. SL2. Unaware of Broots murder or wanting Raines dead except for a little reminder tattoo somewhere on her.

Before he let this go, he was having some serious discussions with Broots.

* * *

**Middle of nowhere.**

The first thing they had to do was figure out the distances between them that affected her memory. Since Parker would be staying with Broots, but Jarod needed to figure out how to retrieve his memory in a decent amount of time, they all joined out in one big field. He barely saw her in the distance. "Take another step closer!" He kept him and Broots at almost the same distance apart.

Recognition of the future didn't take very long, but it would be cruel to keep making her change keys. The transition was tough on her mind, heavier than she admitted. "Another step southwest!" He repeated the process of checking her steps with Broots so often, that both of them were getting tired. As she crept closer though, progress was being made until Jarod could almost see her getting a little foggy in her looks. "Ten feet separation." That was doable. Now? "Catherine Parker mentioned locking and unlocking. As long as you don't come closer to ten feet to her, she'll be fine, Mister Broots."

Broots didn't seem to like that idea. "I'm the one that lives with her," he said. "You're the one who comes and goes."

"You really don't want to push me after what you did," Jarod warned him.

"But, you see how difficult it was to even figure out how much to risk?" Broots pointed out. "Ten feet. I didn't know that. You didn't know that. If it wasn't written down by Catherine Parker, we don't know it."

No. _Don't get into it again with him._ A battle of wills over her wouldn't turn out good. She hated that kind of thing. "I became her key. Transition is hard on the brain, Mister Broots," he reminded him. "We need to be gentle. Even when I'm gone, she'll stay locked as long as you keep your distance. Ten feet."

"But even when we do get close, it still takes time," Broots pointed out. "It takes hours. How do you know you have that right?"

"A trace of unrecognition I see on her face as soon as she steps," Jarod said. A trace too small for Broots to spot. "It's ten feet. Don't get closer than ten feet more than half an hour with her."

"To get anywhere in any city, that's the bare minimum sometimes," Broots said to Jarod. "An hour?"

Jarod stared at her a little longer. "Forty five." That was the highest he would go.

"Forty five," Broots agreed. "I still don't see why she has to remain your key."

"Because she gets to remember, and that's worth everything!" Jarod told him. "She is still the girl you were with, but she's Miss Parker too. Don't forget that." He didn't want her drawing a line between forgetting and remembering as good and bad. "I'll check out your second house, and make sure it hasn't been compromised." At least Broots wasn't opposing that.

"Are we done yet?" she complained. "This little experiment has been going on at least two hours, Jarod."

"I needed an exact measurement," Jarod reminded her. "Are you sure you don't just want to come with me?" Nope. Again. She wasn't alone in the thought either, it would be tougher to keep up his pretends with her hanging around. She didn't want to live for place to place, she wanted to stay in the stability of a home. Probably brought on after her street experience turning into Raines experience. "If you ever change your mind, Parker, you can come. I'd work around the tough spots. Just let me know."

"Um?" Broots wanted to say something again.

"What is it, _Mister_ Broots?" Trying to be polite.

"Her name's Charity," Broots reminded him. "She left Parker behind some time ago."

"I don't care," she interrupted both of them. "_Everything_ is a stupid name. None of it has any charisma."

"She said you named her that," Jarod pointed out. "I'm not too keen on letting you get much deeper into her social well being."

"What? Why?" Broots sighed. "Look, I know you're mad, but I did a decent job. Didn't I? I mean, she doesn't cuss or swear or drink or smoke-"

"I don't smoke regular cigs," she pointed out, "but I'm not a space cadet."

"Eh." Broots ducked his head. "Regardless, I've tried to raise her right. Is that so wrong?"

"No." Jarod looked between them. "Trying to teach good values is fine. Forcing her to learn good values is another. Don't push."

"The fun of the seventies," Parker complained as she snapped her fingers at both of them. "Yo! You two! I'm right here, so why don't you stop talking over me and ask _my_ opinion!"

"Sorry, Charity," Broots said to her. "Is this all fine to you? Do you want, um, Jarod? For your key?" He said slowly. "Even though it comes with so many bad memories for you?"

"I know myself, okay?" She told them both. "I know me as forgetful. I know me as remembering. I'm me." She looked to Jarod. "There's a spot in the back, about fifteen feet, small hall that can be sealed off. It has a bathroom, and we can put a fridge in there."

Ooh. "Parker," Jarod warned her.

"Charity," Broots said again.

Her decision. "Neither one. I'm jingling keys."

* * *

**Miss Parker Remembers: The original time of the 90's and going back in time to 1973. On a deeper inner sense note, sometimes she can remember Paris with her mother and Broots and Jarod. Sometimes she can remember the forest house where she killed Raines. Sometimes she can remember Broots being shot. Sometimes she can remember all kinds of things from mess ups Broots and Jarod could only dream of knowing.  
**

**Jarod: ****The original time of the 90's and going back in time to 1973.  
**

**Broots: His memory now stays intact, remembering the 90's and the current years he now lived in the past (1973-1977)**


	21. Uncomfortably Numb

**Aspen, Colorado.**

Jarod searched every crevice he could find for the safety of the house. "Seems good. Everything is secure." He looked at Miss Parker. "If you ever change your mind."

"We barely survived that month together," she reminded him. "You'll come here clueless, but you'll get better after a few minutes, and so will I. Jingling keys is not the same as one key. Everybody gets the memories, it's just more spaced out. As long as you are visiting often enough. Just do your thing, and then you can go again." She sighed. "You two are both practically trapping me in this room."

Broots looked at Jarod.

Jarod didn't want to agree. His parents were experts at hiding within the other side of homes by now. Broots second home had been big enough, that they could set up the same trick Jarod's family had done. They even had an inner garden area where she could relax. "Don't expect any warnings when I drop by." He paused and looked at Broots. "_Don't_ push your luck." He knew what she was talking about though. She might have been spotted in Miami, and both of them were being extra secure now. If anything happened to her, their set of different memories would be gone. Doors tightened, security enhanced, everything. She was practically. _No. It's not the same. It's just like home, that's all. _It wasn't The Centre. She'd still get to eat well. Broots would get her anything she desired. He'd visit her.

Like Sydney visited him, for his own purposes. _Stop. _Jarod wasn't forcing it on her. She could always come with him, he could figure out something for her. She wanted stability though, something he couldn't offer. Something her memories of another time didn't offer.

The whole room had cameras with a few spots of privacy for her to get dressed and undressed, or to shield from the camera. He made sure there was plenty of room to be shielded if she wanted privacy. She had a huge bathroom, a large bed, big rugs in the room, and nice paintings. Broots would bring in more stuff for her to do, and he'd gotten her a fridge and a deep freezer. Jarod programmed a door bell to go off inside of the room, to alert Broots of anything she needed. There was a long hall on the side of the whole area, where he would come to see her. He alone had the key for it. Whether or not he visited was up to him. But? _I'll visit every time. She won't have anyone but Broots. This is just too much like The Centre, why do this to herself? _"Are you absolutely sure?" He asked, once again. "I could take you on pretends as a sister. Good chance no one would ever care to look up anything there."

"I don't want to be 'Miss A, Miss B, Miss C', or anything else," she admitted. "I don't want to be a Miss. I don't know who I want to be, I just know I don't want to be out there like that."

"So you'd rather just be stuck in the same room forever?" Her line of thinking sometimes! "Parker, if you change your mind."

"I don't want that either," she said. "I don't want any of it. No reason to take any of it." She walked around the room. "The only 'she' here to refer to is me."

"She doesn't want to pretend to be someone, when she's still trying to figure out who she is," Broots said. "Charity is her, yeah, but they lived separately and now she probably has like three stacks of memories and-."

"I know," Jarod stopped him. They weren't exactly separate, but without knowledge of the future, Charity had been slightly different. She was still Parker though. He got the hint. Too much was on her mind, and just like him, maybe Parker felt that strange sense of disconnect from the future too. "If you change your mind," he said to her. "Anytime. Years from now, ever. Let me know and you can come with me." She nodded.

Until then. She was trapped in that house.

* * *

**1984**

Jarod answered his phone. "Hello, Kyle."

"Aw, Big Brother sounds upbeat," Kyle chuckled. "Must be cold where you are. Are you wearing a parka, or are you wearing a Parker yet?"

Tease. "I'm heading that way," he admitted. "Be nice, Man. We're just friends."

"Do you really not remember a thing until you're on your way on the road already?" Kyle asked curiously. "How do you live like that?"

"I got used to it." He knew himself. He had a system. "I have to trust myself. It's still myself, Kyle." Although he kind of wished he didn't have to. "Bye, Kyle." He parked in front of Broots house, the person who was taking care of Charity. Before he went in he reread his current discussion with himself.

Before he went in, he always wrote down questions about something. By the time he was back on the road, his self with the memories had answered it. The conversation never seemed to go anywhere though, but he kept trying. Kyle wasn't too far off about his feelings for Miss Parker. He constantly asked and wanted to know more about why she had to stay wrapped up in that house, how the time travel happened, but most of all? His most recent conversations. He looked at them again.

Q. Can I spend more time with her?

A. No.

Q. Why can't I ask her to come with me?

A. That's her home.

Q. Why does she have to stay locked up like at The Centre?

A. She does it to herself. Her own protection, her choice.

Q. She invited me over for longer yesterday.

A. Yeah, once again, you regretted it.

Q. I think I love her.

A. She'll never leave. Forget it.

Q. I have to ask if she likes me back.

A. No, you don't and you won't. You only know the surface. Respect yourself, Jarod. Acquaintances, maybe friends, and that is it.

He pulled out a small pencil with the paper before he went in. His new question to ask.

Q. Does Broots know more than me about her?

He folded up the paper and unlocked his door on the side. He went in and held his papers. He'd go in clueless with empty sheets and always have them all filled out by the time he was done. He put the papers down and went over to see through the small glass door on the side. He knocked when he saw her working on some kind of painting. Aw, she smiled at him. He waved as she answered the side door.

"Jarod!" She wrapped her arms around him. "It's so good to see you again."

"It's good to see you all the time, Miss Parker." He never knew what to call her, and she never cared to give herself another name. "How are you doing?"

"Making some art." She took his hand and brought her into her room. "See?"

"Yeah. It's." He reached out to the canvas. "Lonely."

"Life's lonely," she said. "Still. Safe from Centre." Her voice almost slurred. "Safe."

"Have you ever . . ." He wasn't supposed to. "I outrun The Centre, I don't hide from it. You could come with me. I-I'd take you, Miss Parker."

"Outside these walls. It sure would be nice." She hesitated. "I want to break free, Jarod, but something's stopping me." Her eyes started to well up. "I can't tell you what it is."

"It's just fear. There's nothing to fear though, I promise. Even if they got you, I would get you back out," he insisted. "I'd never leave you behind."

"It's not fear." She went back to her painting and started to cover it in blues. "It's something else. I just can't. I just have this bad feeling that if I do, I'll hurt Broots. I can't do that." She mixed more colors together. "He takes care of me."

"But I can take care of you," Jarod insisted. "I can give you a lot more than a single room to live out of. I know what this is like, I grew up in this. Please come out?" He tried to touch her arm. "Miss Parker?"

"I can't," she said again. "I'm sorry."

Jarod brought off his backpack and pulled out a couple of sandwiches and some stashed Cokes. "Eat with me?"

"I can't," she said again. "You got real testy last time I ate with you."

_So I did eat with her. _Not fair. "Quick sandwiches. A Coke at least?"

She nodded. "I guess a drink would be okay. Thanks for stopping in to see me again."

"Anytime I can, I try to." He opened the Cokes and gave her one. He watched her drink it, the long bottle up in the air while the pop went down her slender throat. His eyes continued to cascade downward more.

"Eyes up here, Soldier," she warned him. "Back to your papers or watch some Three's Company over there while I work."

"Did you want to watch with me?" Jarod asked her. "Miss Parker?" He sighed as she just moved away. "Stick me right over by the TV again?" He didn't want to. "Why can't we do something together?"

"Just. Relax," she answered. "A little longer and you'll be good as rain. Especially considering, what, you were here just last week? It probably won't even take that long. Did you get what I wanted though?"

"Did you want something?" Jarod asked her. "I can get something for you, Miss Parker. What do you want?" He moved away from the TV. "More paint?"

"Nope." She went back over to her paintings.

"Something special to eat?" He asked, trying to edge closer.

"Nope." She looked at her colors.

He stopped edging closer and strided over. "A *****ometer to see how good you're doing?"

"Hey, hey." She held her brush to him. "You're the one that was so upset I ate lunch with you in that condition. I don't know any better than you without memories. Easy."

"Yeah." He knew. He went over to her side. "Unusual blues."

"Playing with blues," she said. "Waiting for more books."

"You've read a lot of them," Jarod pointed out.

"It's all I can do. Read and create." She puckered her lips in and out as she looked at her painting.

"Can come," he said again. "You know you can come with me at anytime."

"Can't."

"Why not?" Really. By this time it had been years. It was now 1984. "I'm not going to buy 'finding myself', and I've examined you enough to know there's nothing psychologically wrong with you."

She yawned. "Mm. I just like being tucked away from the world and served like a goddess I guess."

Such a liar. "When I don't remember, all I think of is getting you out of here."

She laughed. "Sure, it's all you think of. Look. This is my life. It's comfortable. My keys don't fight each other, I don't have problems with my brain going crazy, and as long as you start heading back ten feet or so to do your paperwork? Everybody is happy. And right on cue." She looked at the cameras on her end. "Broots is coming."

_I don't care if he's coming. He has all day and all night to come. _Jarod headed toward the main door, waiting for the knock. When he heard it? "We're fine, thank you."

"Uh? Oh. Jarod, I didn't know you were visiting her right now. Uh. Okay. I'll give you an hour or so."

"A whole hour? Gee, you're so nice," Jarod said sarcastically.

"Hey. Jingle nicely," she warned Jarod. "He was bringing me a refill on my red. He didn't have any idea you were here." She went back to painting. "It's not like you ever call."

Jarod backed up from the door. He didn't risk getting too close to him for too long. She was positioned precisely ten feet from the door but even half a turn could cut that distance. He moved back toward her and headed the other way. He needed to write for awhile. In the meantime, he could watch Broots with her.

"Here you go." Broots handed her the red paint. "Anything else?"

"Fine." She took the paint. "Night, Broots. I'm heading out for a little while."

"Oh? It's raining," he mentioned.

"I know." She went out her side door.

"But?" He sighed. "Crazy girl."

"She wants to feel the rain," Jarod muttered to him. "She wants to feel the elements of the outside. All she has is a grassy garden area exposed to her, not even ten by ten feet." He tried not to glare. "She tells herself it's a luxury, even decorated it into a paradise with flowers, but it's not enough."

Broots looked toward where she went out. "She won't leave."

"But why?" Jarod questioned him. "She's been in here six years. Isolating herself." Why? He concentrated back on his papers as Broots left again. It was an answer neither of them could get from her.

* * *

She swallowed feeling the rain pour down on her. Even though she lived in a gigantic room, it always felt so small. She had literally spent days outside in there sometimes, just to feel more normal. _I want out so bad. _She'd read so much, learned so much, and created so much. She never got to share it with anyone or talk with anyone though except Broots and Jarod. She even limited herself on that front too. He honestly wanted to see her a lot more, even agreed to spend days with her in her room. But, she couldn't. She didn't want him falling for her too much. Even Jarod's limited time with her was active enough that his forgetful side was madly into her. Even wanting to just eat with her.

Both were bad news. _I can keep this on track. I've done great so far. _She was always with Broots though, he provided everything for her. Her forgetful side could screw up if she didn't make it abundantly clear with the writings on the outside walls around her not to do that.

The guys never saw it. The area wasn't ten by ten, and it was too squished. Jarod also made sure it was her private area. All for her. So she used it well, to let herself always know.

If she ever chose one over the other, they would fight it out. They wouldn't jingle. She already saw the result of that. How much did each of them really want her? Enough to tempt her into . . . _Rain, sweet rain. _Broots and Jarod were both good. This strategy worked and no one was left out. She couldn't leave out Broots either. She already knew that by helping her, he'd screwed up something precious a long time ago. _Debbie. _

Poor Debbie would never be born now.

And the even spookier things, were the things she still did that she didn't understand. She wrote Kill Raines on the wall. Then right beside it, sending a shudder down her spine? She also had, 'Jarod would do it if he knew what was coming'.

Creepy. Her self, her memories, her thoughts? With her jingling keys, she constantly moved from SL1 to SL2 to sometimes even SL3. Only by occupying herself with something, anything, was she able to deal with it. She heard a knock over by the window to her area by Jarod. She went back inside. "What?"

"There's something I need to tell you," he said slowly. "Mister Parker. He was killed two days ago."

"Oh." Already. He already lost his life? "Fun of time travel. New surprises everyday." Hold it back. Fine. Happens. Dealt with it before. Still? _Daddy._ She tried to blink back the tears.

"I don't know how, but Raines took over the company," Jarod said. "Sorry." He tried to give her a hug, but she didn't know how to respond.

"I don't even know how me just staying out of the way killed him faster, Jarod." She hugged him back. How? How did her simply staying in a single room cause that to happen? She backed out of her area to the inside. Jarod followed her in.

"You want me to stay longer tonight?" Jarod asked. "I know Broots has college classes he's catching up on."

"I don't know." She took a seat on her couch. "Raines gets a hold of The Centre now? It's not even the nineties Jarod. What's he going to do with it? How did he get it?"

Jarod sat next to her. "Sorry. I just. Briefly. I just saw your walls in the garden area."

_No, no, no. _Like she didn't have enough on her mind now?

"Jarod would do it if he knew what was coming. Killing Raines." He sighed. "Not much would make me pull the trigger."

"I don't know when I wrote it," she said honestly. "What's it matter anyway?" She felt him rubbing her back affectionately. "How's Sydney?" She tried to look for something nostalgic. Comforting.

"Sydney's great. He'd like to see you," Jarod offered. "Do you want to see him?"

_More than anything. _"I think it'd be great if he stopped by."

"I'll let him know." Jarod sat on the couch. "What about a small road trip to clear your head? I don't have anything going on yet for awhile." He wanted to ask more, she knew it. "A little freedom would help?"

"A taste doesn't make it easy to come back," she said to him. "It just makes it harder." At least he skipped the obvious next line of she doesn't have to.

"How about I get some of your clay?" Jarod suggested. He walked across the room and got some of her Sculpey clay and walked over. He wasn't going to grab any paint until he saw if she wanted to use it. "Here."

She took some of it while he held a box. He dug it out. Jarod was a master in just about everything he did, but she was a potential pretender. Her mastery fell into what she had worked on from the younger age of when Broots had taken care of her. He managed to catch her, probably at the brink of her chance for childhood pretending. While she sucked at anything else Jarod could want to try, she held her own in the arts. The first time Jarod sat down with her, he seemed a bit amazed at what she accomplished. He started to work next to her, and before he knew it, they worked on projects together sometimes.

Just like now. They both worked on the same piece, pinching corners and stretching the clay. Neither had a side nor constraints when they did work together. It was a good excuse to get off the couch and remember what was important.

"You aren't trying to think of another time again, are you?" Jarod asked her as he started to work on the left side.

"It wouldn't do any good. I have no idea how it came to be, so what could I do?" She smoothed out her side. "I'd probably mess something up, or kill Raines and lose 30 years and play the whole thing all over again." She caught his look. "I have a lot of wall space outside. In that time, I conveyed a couple of things I never get to remember."

"I don't suppose you know what the puzzle key is?" Jarod asked.

"You can't do it, so don't ask." She knew what it had been. She hadn't been stupid enough to put it on the walls, but she had written it on a piece of paper. After she saw it, she burned it. It wasn't going to leave her mind any day soon. Just to be sure though, she did confide in Broots. But, just Broots. Both of them knowing wouldn't be good. She looked back at the sculpture. "That doesn't look like the Cool Spot. Utter failure."

Jarod smiled. "Not out yet," he reminded her.

"Perfect," she said. "Put it into a gallery and call it Future Mascot of America. Then let the games begin." She smiled lightly. "Time travel has made my sense of humor worse. I don't know if I regret making this. Why did we make this?" It was far from a gimmicky mascot like her joke.

It was her. They sculpted her, from the other future. It had her old type of clothes. Luxurious, sexy, but dark business woman. Her hair was shaped, curved perfectly too. She was holding hands with a figure that looked more like her. A pair of pants she had stained from her art supplies she tended to wear when things got messier. Her clothes tended to be a mixture of dark and light more now. Her hair she left longer, usually doing something with braids. Around her head, on the sides, or something. Mainly because it was another thing to help her from getting bored plus braids were an in thing.

Her brightly colored shirt, reliable shoes with funky colored shoe laces, and her braid styled hair. The difference was so night and day. "Hang on, I don't have that." She saw something that had been molded on her wrist.

"But you will," Jarod said knowingly. He pulled out a small bracelet from his pocket and straightened it. "Tiger print pink?"

"You _were_ leading," she accused him. "I remember those. Slapstick bracelets."

"I got tiger print orange." He pushed up his sleeve more to show off his bracelet.

"Of course you did. Can't miss out on a fashion trend starting, can you?" Probably even took a trip to the original store for it. She slapped the bracelet around her wrist. "I know that feeling." She felt the bracelet on her wrist.

"It does have a strange feel to it. I've been getting used to it," Jarod said. He took her hand in his. "One day, I really hope you trust me enough to tell me why you're incarcerating yourself."

"It's not trust." She got up to fetch her paints to start painting the clay. "It's about preventing problems, Jarod. That's all I can say."

"It's the puzzle key," he said. "It's _always_ been the puzzle key. Broots and I can't do it, you've said that," he pushed. "We can't do something that we don't _know_ about. That's why, isn't it?"

"We should do you next," she remarked. "Talk about some artistic fun figuring out how to make your Pink Floyd T-shirt. How many washes has that been through? You can barely see their name on the wall. Or the wall."

They heard the door open and saw Broots.

"Back," he said. Yet, not happy. "You're working on art with Jarod. Again. That looks great. Real detailed. How long did that take?"

"I spent a little extra time with her since her dad passed away," Jarod said softly. "Nothing excessive."

Ooh. It did take a little while though. Unless she was switching to one key, Jarod needed to move away. He wasn't moving though. "Thanks for helping with the statue, Jarod. You better write down anything else you need."

"Sure." Jarod patted her wrist. "Enjoy your bracelet." Jarod moved away loyally, but she noticed him eyeing Broots.

_A thousand times no. _There was just no way she could tell him. Paranoia was always high in them, even now. Jarod felt cross he couldn't just get her out. Broots was worried Jarod would up and seize her one day. Jarod already knew that was a possibility with Broots since he did that in '74. Before you know it, one of them would make a move and try and take her. _Nothing but regrets that way. Only one can know, and I chose Broots. _He deserved to know about the little boy Jamie, and about how dangerous it had really been to move through time.

"Oh, hang on." Jarod came back over toward her and fished something small out of his pocket. "You wanted this?"

"Yes!" He did it. Miniature bouquet of flowers. "Thanks." She got up and headed over to some of the other sculptures she had made over time. Almost among her first. Her mother's grave. She had asked last time if he could find some very small yet detailed flowers for it. She designed flowers, but they didn't feel the same and she had made it painstakingly accurate. Even the flowers were the right size to the grave. If she couldn't visit the real thing, she could honor her memory as she could.

"I can try to get a picture of Mister Parker's grave for you, if you want," Broots said to her. "For your collection."

It. Probably sounded nice in his head. She would want to honor his death, but it just. The word. Collection. _Don't overreact. Broots is trying to be nice. You could yell at him, but Jarod is here and that will make him overreact. _"It's close to the Centre, it's too dangerous. I'll work on my own tribute when I'm ready." Which wouldn't be right now.

"Sure. Whenever you are ready, no rush," Broots said. "It's not dangerous, I can hire someone to do it for you."

"Alright." She really didn't want to dwell on it right now. Being in front of her mother's grave sculpture though with thoughts of her dad. _Don't lose it. _She had to loosen her dry throat. She moved away from her sculptures to her fridge. OJ. Milk. Pop. Bottled water wouldn't be a thing for awhile. She could go fill up a cup in the bathroom sink, but Jarod was working on that side of the room. She grabbed a Dixie cup and had some orange juice.

"Sorry. I don't know if that was the right thing to say," Broots said to her. "I'm just. Shocked. How did that change? I mean, that's not anything you need to answer. Just a thought." He was trying to be caring. "I'm sorry, Charity. You know, I bet we could arrange to send some flowers to his grave. And to your mom's if you want. They are both in April. Close together. How awful."

She just kept downing the orange juice, waiting for her throat to be able to speak better. That slow discovery by him didn't help. "No."

"No? Okay." Broots backed off again. "Is there anything I can do? I could order a pizza?"

It was night time, close to bedtime. "I'm fine," she said again.

"Do you want a hug?" He smiled. "Always one on offer." She accepted a small hug for him. "If there's anything else, I'm not far."

"I know Broots, I'm fine," she insisted. She went back over to look at the sculpture she made with Jarod. Bedtime or paint?

"I'll move to the hallway," Jarod said from his distance. "You can get some sleep. I'll be gone after a few more notes." He went out his side door.

Bedtime it would be then. "Bedtime sounds good. I'll see you tomorrow, Broots."

"You bet. Brighter day tomorrow," Broots insisted. "Goodnight." He went out the front door.

She approached her bed but caught onto the fact Jarod didn't lock his side door. He may or may not be there. She heard a small knock on the side door now and answered. "Get your work done?"

"Some," he said. "Goodnight?"

"Goodnight."

"Do you want me to come back later again?" Jarod asked. "I still have that week off."

"I'm sure I'll be fine," she said. "I'm not fragile. I've been through a lot more than this."

"I know." He definitely wanted to say something. Probably about Broots wanting to order pizza for her. "Get some rest. I'll see you later." He went out the side door, and this time locked it. Before he left her side he picked out a small piece of paper from his pocket. He shook his head. "Answer, definitely yes."

"What's definitely yes?" she asked.

"Nothing. Forgetful Jarod asks things." He chuckled. "I talk to myself, to try and keep me on track. I guess this paper is almost like my walls." He nodded. "Night." He walked away.

She moved over toward her nightstand and grabbed her things. She moved toward a private area where she got dressed without cameras bothering her. _Karma is such a killer. _She went ahead and slid into her bed for the night. She waited there, waiting for sleep to arrive. Waiting for a new day. She heard Jarod's side door again. He must have forgot something.

Then, she knew he didn't forget anything. She quickly moved around the bed, instinctively looking for something to fight with. Broots kept her so safe though with the added security and- "Oh no. Not you."

"Sister." Lyle motioned for his sweepers to surround her bed. "Don't move. That's advice." She started to struggle as she was held securely by sweepers. "Bring him out." Lyle motioned to the front door to the room.

She could barely breathe. Broots was there, already with a black eye. _No. No! _"How?"

"Hm? Well? I don't have the cool power of time," Lyle said. "But I am your brother, and _heart_ to heart? You can't really break us apart easily. Sweet, huh? Oh, before I forget?" He leaned against her bed. "Thanks, completely, for this whole thing. I got out and into The Centre so much earlier now."

"You remember?" she asked. "How?"

"I don't. I do. I don't get it as much, but I guess you call it déjà vu? But, it doesn't matter." He shrugged. "I knew enough to secure my spot with dad. You know. Raines?" He snapped his fingers and Broots was brought forward. "Still, who needs that when we've got dad's knowledge too? Make him kneel." Lyle went right beside Broots and held a gun to his head. "For instance? If we kill this key, your other key gets you. He automatically remembers and then we'd have some trouble." He pulled the gun away. "But?" He pointed at his foot and shot it.

Broots scream started to trigger her mind again. _Broots! _"What do you want, Lyle?!" She yelled at him. "You want me dead for betraying The Centre? Fine, then just kill me already."

"No. No, no, no. I don't play like that," Lyle warned her. "I take more after dad than mom. Prop him up," he told the sweepers. "Now, see? We like the future you gave us. Really, it's awesome, but? It could still be better. Like, that whole Jarod thing for example. Did you know that he stopped a very important experiment, changing humanity forever? Cloning. Gone. Kaput." He grabbed Broots hand. "He destroyed Prodigy before it could even happen. SL-27, what's that? Hasn't been around in a long time. Jarod's insider knowledge, it kind of ruined the chance to get anything done. Not to mention, his brother Kyle. Now that Jarod had actual notes, and somehow he convinced his brother it was all true? We had_ two_ Pretenders screwing around with us."

He held Broots hand up higher. "So I am thinking, one for the cloning. One for SL-27. Oh, and the whole hand for Kyle." Lyle held up a sharp knife. "Or maybe? Instead?"

?!

She. Screamed. She screamed louder than she ever could as she felt the back of her ankles get sliced.

"Get him!"

"Grab him, he's disarmed!"

"He's got nowhere to go, shoot him!"

She felt herself getting scooped up by someone in a leather jacket. She could make out the faded Pink Floyd T-shirt. _No. Jarod_.

"Hang on!" Jarod said as he held her. "Lyle."

"Ah? He remembers me. I'm so flattered." Lyle bent toward him. "Now where were we? Oh yeah. How many times did you beat The Centre because of future knowledge? One . . . two . . ."

Jarod covered her eyes as she heard Broots scream again. Even now, at the brink of the end, he was trying to protect her. She gripped onto his jacket so tightly. "Moron!"

"I couldn't." She felt his head pressed against hers as she heard Broots agonizing screams again. "I couldn't leave you alone with Lyle, I never could." He was trying to hold onto her so tight. It was useless in the end. The Centre found them, there were probably thirty sweepers there with even more backup coming. "I've got you, Miss Parker. I've got you, I've got you, I've got you."

"This is just adorable," Lyle's voice came again. "I mean? It doesn't matter if we kill him, torture him, or invite him over for a barbecue. Doesn't matter for you, Jarod, slow torture sounds just fine to me." He chuckled. "There's really no stopping it, Jarod," Lyle said.

She heard Broots scream again, renewed. She couldn't take much more. _If I do this, everything I went through. It'll be meaningless! _She thought back to her days in Miami. Her days out with Jarod, faking her age for a way to survive. Breaking Jarod out.

That's when she heard it. A scream that was even worse than the sound of Broots being tortured. "Jarod!"

"Here, Miss Parker." Weak though, so weak. Like he'd been stabbed. She could feel liquid in front of his t-shirt and his grip had loosened on her. She wanted it to have been her blood from her back, but she doubted it had been.

"Now, Santa, I think it's time we talk wishes?" Lyle approached her without fear. His voice so close to her. "You never broke Jarod out. Dad rules, with me. I inherit The Centre, and you are just a rule follower. Everything you did before, it means _nothing_. Oh, except for Mister Parker? The one, that was your dad? Yeah, Raines and I talked about that one. You're the one who kills him. When the Triumvirate investigates, you'll state he was abusing you. Raines will use that so family matters come out naturally. Raines gets The Centre, I get out early again, and everybody wins. Good? Good. Now make it happen before everyone's dead."

She heard Broots scream again, and Jarod's grip was getting weaker too. _My boys are dying._

"Oh, come on, Jarod," Lyle complained on the other side of her. "A little more wailing, that's lethal _and_ painful. You've been a doctor, you know that."

The amount of liquid she felt on her hands. Broots continuous screams.

She had nothing left to give. She didn't want to go back in time and undo everything! No! Just, No!

* * *

"Parker," Jarod called out weakly. _No. _He could feel himself sinking into unconsciousness, he had for some time. "Miss."

"There we go, and that was a good job." Lyle walked over to his sister. "Stellar, I should get an award. She'll wake up feeling like a million bucks now, and I bagged myself a Pretender in the process."

Jarod glared up at him. He knew there was a chance he wasn't mortally wounded, but he was too bad off to tell her. And. There was still a chance.

"Prized possession, back to The Centre. He has to get patched up right away. Ooh? Broots." Lyle snapped his fingers like he almost forgot. "Yeah, I know that hurts. I mean, I don't blame you for making out for mad cash and taking my sister for a spin. Who am I to judge? Had to pay a little bit of a price though." He instructed his sweepers. "Wrap up his fingers and get him to the hospital. He'll need all his fingers to catch Kyle."

"You didn't expect her to change time," Jarod said. "Liar."

"No, of course not," Lyle said. "Why would I want to though?" Adjusted his suit. "Like it here. Forget the 90's, gonna start in the 80's with making waves. I'll own The Centre by the time I even joined it before, if I play my cards right." He gestured to Jarod. "Don't worry though. We are taking her far away from you and Broots. Dad's got his own mindwashing to-!" Lyle ducked out of the way just in time.

Jarod looked toward the door. Kyle. Even that one year of Raines holding him in SL-27 made a difference in him. Little Brother watched his back more than he should. He still did things more than he should. In order to get to Jarod, he would have had to . . .

He didn't know anymore. He was fading as Kyle came over to him.

Ringing shots around them. Jogging somewhere. His brothers voice was so fuzzy . . .

"No way, Jarod, you need medical help now. You're at the verge of death, there's no time!" His brother was speeding like his life depended on it. It probably did.

"Miss Parker," Jarod said again. "The Centre. Kyle. I'll forget if I go from her for too long, I can't forget. They did something. Lyle did something to her."

"You have some notes over what happened in the future somewhere, right? I mean that's why you come see the pretty thing," Kyle said. "Look, you won't remember time travel soon so where did you put all your notes at? Are they in your car? Jarod? Jarod stay with me!"

End of Act 3

* * *

**Miss Parker Remembers: The original time of the 90's and going back in time to 1973 when Jarod hangs around her for just a little while. Since she is 'jiggling keys' it doesn't take long for their memories to fix themselves. Before Jarod arrives and a little while after he arrives, she just has memories of that time and nothing else. The part that emerges with Jarod with full memories sometimes has deep memories too. (Broots being shot, killing Raines, seeing her mother, etc.)  
**

**Jarod: Jarod knows he remembers when he stays near Parker long. Before then, all he has is memories of that time. After he has been around her a short time, he can remember t****he original time of the 90's and going back in time to 1973.  
**

**Broots: His memory now stays intact, remembering the 90's and the current years he now lived in the past (1973-1984)**


	22. Twisted Hurricane Cassandra

**ACT FOUR: THE RIGHT CHARISMA**

**Miss Parker's Rental- 1997**

Miss Parker popped some pain pills in her mouth and drank some water. They were about the only thing The Centre provided for her. She turned the gas on her oven on, but it wasn't automatically lighting. She turned it back off and pulled out her matches. She turned it on very low and quickly lit it. When it lit, she turned the fire up. She went toward her cupboard. The end of the month was always the roughest. Meat wasn't an option tonight. Not real meat. "Mac. Baked beans." She moved toward her fridge and looked inside. "Hot dogs."

The elegant food she used to eat as a kid had long since gone away. The luxurious life style she experienced as a child was simply a dream. In 1970, her mother died and in 1984 her father had died too. Well, the man she felt was her father. She found out that man hadn't been her father after all, and Mister Raines had been. One day as a child, she had a carefree life, learning her trade in ruling the Centre and then? She woke up ten years later.

Ten years of memories. Gone. Rumor had it in 1973 she freed the pretender Jarod and disappeared until 1984. There were no recordings, no documents and no proof of any kind that anything happened. Even now, in 1997. Nothing. However, somehow Jarod did in fact escape. The Centre was still chasing him down, along with his brother Kyle.

That was another thing she got the blame for. Jarod had access to information he should have never had access to. He put a stop to projects that aggravated The Centre, but she didn't understand any of them. Any of it. The best she could figure was that somehow, someone designed a drug for complete mind control. However? Even that thought didn't help. Being mind controlled for ten years.

She still worked at The Centre, at the request of her Father, but she was still treated like a traitor. Her paycheck was meager and had only been cut down, never rose over the years. She had no say so in how anything was ran, including in her own life. Anything she wanted to mail, if she wanted to talk on the phone, and even if she wanted to date. It was controlled by The Centre.

As it should be. She did her best to make The Centre proud of her. Maybe one day it would see that she would never sabotage it. Until then? She dealt with the punishment, and the characters she had to get along with too. Broots wasn't too bad, he was her computer guy. He often went out with her in search of Jarod since she would be going solo. Mister Lyle was the man in charge of where they went and the 'expert on Jarod and Kyle'.

He wasn't. He always seemed to get it wrong, but Mister Raines let him get away with it. Every time. She even tried to give Mister Raines all the proof in the world with what Broots dug up. It never worked though, like he suspected she was trying to sabotage The Centre.

She also had a terrible injury she received ten years ago from somewhere. She got cut on the back of her ankles, and the pain of her injury only got worse over the years. She practically had flat feet and she paid for it when she ran. Her teeth were also in terrible condition. Most times she just kept her mouth shut or barely opened. There was no dental insurance (or medical) for her, and she hardly had money for food and rent. Dental was just a dream and the only reason The Centre sprung for her pills was that she would barely be able to walk without pain without them. She'd be useless. So she didn't get medical, they just gave her pills to make the pain go away. She didn't even know what the pills were and she didn't care. As long as the pain stayed away.

Another oddity was that she had the weirdest 'uniforms'. She wore clothes from discount or used clothes stores in her daily life, but her uniform was always some fancy dark upscale dress suits and dress outfits. Clothes that would take half her paycheck to afford. She had to keep them in top condition and only wear them when she went out after Jarod. It was strange, but she did it anyhow. She had to. She couldn't disobey The Centre. Nobody disobeyed The Centre.

"Hm. No Mac." She looked in her fridge. Out of milk and it wasn't in her budget. Everything had to work down to the penny.

"Parker! I hate your new neighborhood!"

Miss Parker looked over her fridge. Right out her window was that face again. Not only was Mister Lyle an annoyance that was the 'Jarod expert', he was also her neighbor. Somewhere within a three block distance, no matter where she rented, he had to be there. Yeah. She was never far from The Centre's sight. "Then move further."

"There's no decent houses anywhere within here," he complained to her. "You know I'm required to live three blocks away and no farther. You have to be babysitted. You're lucky Raines puts up with you so much."

Lucky? "I couldn't stay in the last place. My paycheck was cut. Even moving in here was difficult." She was cutting it close that month because of the move. "Sorry, Mister Lyle."

"Well if you would just catch Jarod, then your paycheck would stop getting cut," Mister Lyle complained to her.

"Yes, Mister Lyle." She hated him but he was above her. The more grief she gave him, the more grief she received in return. Not from him, from Raines. And Raines was The leader of The Centre. She had to be good for The Centre. "I am trying."

"You've been trying since 1984, try harder," he complained.

He was wrong. When she came back, she had to take time to learn training. She was behind by ten years. Yet, she couldn't disobey. "Sorry, Sir."

"Stupid. Do you know how annoying it is to make as much as I do? Yet I have to be cursed to leave most of my stuff in storage because I can't ever get a decent house that can even hold it," he complained again. "Bright and early at The Centre tomorrow."

"Yes, Sir." After he finally left her window, she rolled her eyes.

* * *

**Centre, Next Day**

Miss Parker kept her eyes on Mister Lyle across her Father's desk. She grabbed Broots itinerary and dropped it in front of him. "We have data. Something Mister Lyle never has, Father." She looked toward Broots. "Broots, explain it."

"Uh, sure." Broots came over next to Raines, but nowhere near touching. He never liked to touch, Broots always wore gloves, even when typing. "My 'data' dug up a person that fits Jarod's age, weight, description, height and the thrill of last naming puns. Someone matching that saved a family who were injured, and has already left Florida."

"So," Miss Parker said, still looking at Lyle. "Mister Lyle. Actual research suggests Jarod had been there, and now he's not there." That simple. Yet, it never was that simple. Still, she would try.

Lyle leaned against the desk too and made the same eye contact. "My gut says he is."

_Damn. _Miss Parker looked back at her Father. "Raines, Sir. I think we-"

"You don't think," Raines corrected her. "Data is just numbers on a page. Go meet Cassandra if you have to, but get Jarod. Broots goes with you."

"Broots can't go with me." Her computer guy out in that storm? She'd be lucky if she made it back. "He's hot on the trail for Kyle." She pulled herself up from the table. No matter how many times she challenged Mister Lyle, he always won. Damn him.

"Then take Mister Lyle," Raines said.

"What?" Oh, Lyle didn't like that. "I don't go out and search for Jarod. I'm always the one in the office."

Oh, Miss Parker wasn't letting that opportunity go. He could get out and trudge along America getting dirty in the mud for once for The Centre too. "Come on, Mister Lyle. Come and cool off with Cassandra," she said sweetly with a raise of her eyebrow.

"Broots or Mister Lyle is going with you," Raines insisted to her. "Choose one and hurry it up."

Easy. "Yes, Sir," she said to Raines. "I choose Mister Lyle as my Cassandra sidekick."

* * *

Broots watched them both head out unhappily toward the jet. He looked back to Raines. "You know he's not there. My data's correct."

"I don't. _You _do." Raines looked down at his desk. "History changes everything, I don't expect it to be all the same anyhow. Go back to searching for Kyle."

"Th-the storm is going to be dangerous, Sir," Broots insisted. "I think you should really consider . . ." No good. Raines wouldn't budge. Broots walked out of the room and down into the sub levels to work on tracking Kyle. While he did that he watched the coverage on Hurricane Cassandra.

In 1984, Broots had been tortured by Mister Lyle. Miss Parker lost herself, and Raines took control of her. For several years, Broots didn't remember her either, and he found himself forced to work his way through The Centre's own programs, until he saw her in 1996, when his memory came back of her. She looked just like she had in the other time, attitude included. The only main difference was that instead of focusing just on her mother's suicide, she also focused on the ten years missing from her life. That was it for differences.

She was fully Miss Parker, Centre driven like a car. She was a perfect representation of a Parker in the Centre now. But, she wasn't treated as such. Raines kept Lyle close as the second in charge. And kept Miss Parker?

At the bottom of his foot. She barely made enough to make rent for a small apartment. The clothes she wore when chasing Jarod had been kept the same, Lyle calling them standard uniform. Jarod's flashbacks would match with her same kind of clothing that way. Of course, calling _those_ clothes standard uniform was ridiculous, but she still had to go with it. She wouldn't oppose it. She made The Centre happy.

The only reason Broots was kept alive, was to keep Jarod at bay of figuring out the truth. Since he was at The Centre the last time with a daughter, if Jarod had any kind of flashbacks, he would see Broots and think he was overworked. The closer Raines kept things appearing like last time in the 90's? The better his chances at catching Jarod.

Broots played his game. He still had millions of dollars in secret investments now that he remembered the other time again, but he lived humbly. He couldn't leave her there at The Centre with Raines or Lyle, and since Jarod wasn't a key she jingled with anymore? She was his responsibility alone now. Which, was okay. He had no one. Because of the future interference, he never met his two-face wife in the same way either. Meaning they never fell in love. They never got married. They never had that one special night when a unique matching pair of DNA created that special one he used to have. Debbie.

She didn't exist. All he had to take care of now was Miss Parker. All he could do was hope that one day, Raines would mess up and he'd find an opportunity to get her out.

"She'll be back, Love. What's the worry?"

Broots looked behind him at Brigitte. She was now at The Centre, and probably still had the same tragic role to play. Except to Mister Raines. He just watched her smile, suck on her sucker and turn to walk away.

If The Centre was a terrible place to work before? It was a hell on Earth now.

* * *

**Florida (Not Near Cassandra)**

Jarod yawned lightly as he heard a beep from his computer. It was getting late. Who was messing around at that hour? Jarod got half dressed and out of bed to check his computer. In the 80's to help protect his interests, he'd already made his own version of GPS on The Centre's cars, and when GPS became an actual thing, he had an informant of his, as the mechanic of that area, install the most advanced GPS money could buy at the time.

It wasn't for The Centre though, it was for him. At a whim, he could see when any registered Centre car took off, including the jet and the helicopters suite. He blinked as he looked at the screen. "Private Jet to Florida?" Hurricane Cassandra. What were they doing going there? "Miss Parker. Why in the world are you going into a huge hurricane?" Jarod swore inwardly. Sometimes, The Centre just thought they had info about him in the strangest places. Sometimes they were right, and sometimes. Like this time? They were very wrong, and she was putting her life on the line for nothing. He was in Florida, but he was already safe. He had helped a family get to safety as someone tried to ransom them off. He dealt with it already and would be off to another destination later.

Jarod heard his phone ring and looked at the number. Sydney. He also made sure Sydney, his parents, Emily, and Kyle were also hooked up to the advanced GPS system. So? He was about to get some accompanying calls.

"Jarod? Did you just see the strange notification?"

"Yeah," Jarod admitted. "Apparently The Centre thinks I'm in the middle of a hurricane now. Someone's sloppy."

"Miss Parker's on board with someone named Mister Lyle according to the data."

". . . yeah." Jarod sighed and looked at the screen. He already knew what was coming. "The area of where they are going is sketchy."

"Well. Just letting you know. I didn't know if you'd get up or anything," Sydney said. "Is it a dangerous area? How sketchy?"

"I'll have to look into it in detail," Jarod said. "I'll let you know more, Sydney. Tell your family I said hi."

"I will, Jarod."

The flashing light blinked on Jarod's computer. _A hurricane. _A part of him wanted to forget it, that hurricane was dangerous and he couldn't tell what was going on with it yet. He could land right into it. He could land right into them. Ugh.

Miss Parker was a ***** among *****es. A two faced terrible person. She had psychological and parental issues that made it hard for anyone to get along with her. Her reputation preceded her and she was as cold as they came. He was even trying to find something in her icy heart to relate to by finding her a compatible friend. Thomas Gates. Someone who could help her deal with her issues, but as of yet, she hadn't let him in. He'd called several times and she wasn't budging.

And as much as Jarod hated dealing with her, he could never outright hate her. His knowledge of the night he escaped was always gone. Just, gone. He knew from Sydney and his parents alone that she freed him as well as gave Sydney a list of seven other kidnapped children her mom couldn't get. She put her very life on the line to get him and them all out. At the tender age of thirteen, she put everything on the line.

And then, kaput. It was a mystery Jarod couldn't solve. There were no DSA's or archived evidence that he could find that shared why she did it and then went back on everything. Went back to The Centre in 1984 with claims of amnesia, was thoroughly examined, and went through a lot of hell.

No pictures. No audio. She was a saint for one day, and then she became the biggest ***** across the circumference of a hell again. Still. _Hurricane. _No matter how terrible she had been, Sydney and his parents all swore it was her who saved him. She was the only reason he and his brothers were ever able to get out safely back to their family. Although, Ethan didn't actually grow up with him for awhile. He went with Sydney. Sydney had a son named Nicholas and an ex-girlfriend named Michelle, while he raised Timmy and Ethan. Shortly after Ethan got older and went back to Jarod's parents, Michelle had become Sydney's wife.

And? Sydney swore without Miss Parker, he wouldn't have Nicholas or his wife either.

So? "Hurricane." He got up from his computer. "Why?" Normally people who were good stayed good. They didn't go out hunting the people they once saved. Never made sense. With what Jarod ever dug up, it never would. And then came the next call he knew would be coming. There was another reason he'd have to leave. He didn't even need to look at the number. Kyle or Emily wouldn't be as interested in waking him up. It was his mom. "I know."

"She's in a hurricane, Jarod!"

"Yeah. The Centre sent her into a hurricane, Mom." His mom had known her mom, so whenever anything popped up, he'd be sure to get a call from his mother as well. She was always extra concerned when it came to her.

"Will she be okay?"

"I am looking at the data as we speak." Well, he would. "I'll let you know, Mom."

"I hope she isn't in peril."

"Cassandra and her will get along great I'm sure," He joked lightly. "I may have to go after her." Oh. He just had to say it out loud. Comfy bed, the day already done, and_ now_ he had to go out into the middle of a hurricane at night! Just because of bad intel or slow timing.

"Will that put you at risk?"

"I can see the path it's most likely going to take. I can lead her away, Mom. Once they see me, they'll give chase."

"Who goes out in the middle of a hurricane in a private jet? Someone must have sent her out there. It was so wrong of them, she shouldn't be running. They all know that! Be careful if you go, Jarod. Can you maybe lead them with a phone call or one of your fancy tricks?"

"Not this far away," Jarod shared.

"It's a bad idea, Son." He heard the voice change to his dad. "A hurricane is dangerous, and I hate to see something happen to you."

"I know, Dad." Jarod shrugged. "I'll be fine."

"Jarod?"

Ah. Ethan. "Hey there." His youngest brother. His quite different brother, but still great brother. He tended to have visions and thoughts of someone that wasn't his own. His family took good care of him after Sydney brought him back home, but he still had a tendency to . . . to say things he shouldn't say.

"Cassandra is going to tell you the truth, if you look outside of it, Jarod."

Ooh. And then there were strange things like that. He'd mentioned the name Cassandra months before the hurricane was ever named. Hmm.

* * *

**Florida**

**(Near the Hurricane)**

"Well?" Miss Parker looked around the departure area. "You want us to check, Mister Lyle, but check where?!" She tried to look outward. The wind was blowing heavily and the rain was intense.

It would only get worse. Jarod could barely see them even though he'd risked getting close. _Mister Lyle. _Never met him before. _Must be a new Hunter._ The path the hurricane was taking wasn't good, he needed to hurry. _Who in the world ordered you into this mess?_ Then he yelled 'Parker!' as loud as he could. Naturally they had a car ready to follow. He got in his own rental and drove off. _Let's see? Where would be the safest area?_ _That place might still be open. _It wasn't the safest but it was a start. The simple place he kept the family safe in that he helped. Hopefully the others were gone from there. Since with the winds no one could claim forced entry, and it should have some barricading on it, it should work.

He hit the house first, getting out of the car and jiffying open the door. When he got in the lights were out. No surprise, no one should be there. He went to the kitchen and looked around. Rolling pin maybe?

"Jarod!"

Damn. Out of time. He held his hand up holding the rolling pin. Miss Parker showed up in front of him, weapon drawn with the new guy right behind her. "A hurricane? You've got to set some boundaries, Parker."

"Shut up," she warned him. "You're coming with me."

"I don't think so," Jarod said. "No one's going anywhere."

"Then we'll be here all night with a gun trained-"

Ouch! Jarod watched as Miss Parker got nailed with a board across her head. She tumbled backwards onto a nearby wall. Watson was still there, a gun now on the new Centre guy.

"J-Jarod, you okay?"

"Yeah. Thanks." Except? Jarod looked for any first aid he could find. Miss Parker was squinting, touching her wound when he came back. He kicked her gun away and started to wrap gauze around her head.

"What are you doing?" she demanded. "Damn it, Jarod! I'm supposed to be hunting you. Don't bandage me up!"

"Rather it get infected?" Jarod sighed. "I can't just let you run around here like that."

"Why not?!"

"Because," he reminded her. "You know why."

"Because you saved him from The Centre," Mister Lyle said to her. "Ooh, even more proof."

"Lies!" she growled at Jarod. "Your trainer, he manipulated me."

"Sydney was not my trainer, I'm not a monkey, and he did not manipulate you. You were the one with the access and you did it of your own free will."

"Ha! See?" The new guy pointed out. "Straight from Jarod's own mouth."

"Bull!" She groaned, starting to feel the pain kick in. "If I did, I would have given him the DSA's he wants so bad! Ow!"

Ooh. She just struck a chord with Jarod. A _very_ tender chord. "You_ know _where my DSA's are?"

"Of course I know, I'm _still _a Parker."

Lying? Not lying? Hard to tell with her. "Parker."

"Go back to The Centre, and I'll bring them to your room personally."

"Parker!" Damn. He wanted to threaten her to find out for sure, but his mom would be too upset. So would Sydney. "You're lucky you are ingrained on my good side. Where are the DSA's?" He picked up the gun she tried to regrab again, and took it with him as he moved further away to the other side of the room. No, she wasn't talking. "Just get some rest. When you wake up, I'll be gone again, and then you can go home." With neither one any more wiser. _Outside of Cassandra. _He remembered his brothers words again.

Outside of Cassandra.

* * *

**The Centre**

Broots heard the sound of the oxygen tank wheel by him. He knew it made Raines mad, and Mister Lyle. Lyle had the annoying habit of sending them to locations that had no proof Jarod was there. It was just where Jarod once went. Lyle always went with 'gut instinct', but his gut instinct was starting to get on people's nerves. Including even his father. While Lyle sometimes had insight into the future, it wasn't as firm as he liked to act. It was just Déjà vu. Same as Jarod. Same as Raines.

That was the thing too, with Jarod. Advanced super genius, yes, but without knowledge of the future he had no idea he'd be doing bad stuff. Like setting up Thomas Gates' death. So little surprise now.

Another thing Broots missed? To get him through the tough trials? Sydney. Sydney had disappeared in 1974 along with Angelo. No one had seen him since. Most likely since Jarod had remembered when he was younger, he probably told Sydney about Nicholas. So, Sydney was long gone. It only made sense to Broots. So, Broots never went looking for him either. His old comrade, he was probably better off and happy this time around. Why bother him about that? Why drag him into The Centre's endless hell?

* * *

**Jarod's Hideout One Day Later**

"Jarod? Hey."

"Hey there, Thomas," Jarod said oh the phone as he was busy typing out his next Pretend qualification resume. What Ethan said to him about Cassandra kept bugging him. "I was just wondering how you'd been. Good to hear from you." He heard a strange sigh in his voice. "Something wrong?" He stopped typing briefly before he starting typing again. "She said she can only date people from where she works?_" _He let out a light laugh. "I thought that was the opposite of pretty much all advice out there." Only Centre? Maybe they didn't hit it off. "No chance though." He stopped typing again. "You're kidding? She's . . . the computer guy she works with? She said computer guy?" He nodded and went back to typing. "Alright. Sorry, Thomas. No. Not everything always works out. Talk to you later."

Damn. "Broots." That guy again. He was . . . the squirrely type, but he tended to have _real_ good luck. Jarod swore sometimes he dropped information someone like Broots should have seen sooner before he picked it up. Sydney left The Centre too young to get to know this guy. He'd been chasing him for almost a year now, and he kept a pretty quiet past.

Jarod sat back in his chair and pulled up more information on Broots. Everything looked fine, but there had always been a_ little_ something off. Now that he knew he was Miss Parker's boyfriend, it was time to dig a little deeper. "Maybe I better get a little bit closer." Broots was a computer guy. He wouldn't leave as much of his own life exposed on a computer.

He needed to search the tangible world. Maybe he could also be a clue to finding his DSA's.

* * *

**Miss Parker Remembers: Nothing. She knows that she escaped with Jarod in 1973 and she was missing for ten years before being brought back. She remembers nothing else. She has all duties to The Centre. No matter how bad it treats her.  
**

**Jarod: He doesn't remember anything about time travel, but he does know that Miss Parker rescued him in 1973. He grew up with his family. The Centre still chased after him, and he still didn't have any DSA's. All he has are strange marks on his back he apparently had put there when he had his DSA's.****  
**

**Broots: His memory now stays intact, remembering the 90's and the current years he now lived in the past (1973-1997) Sometimes he'll have small relapses, but mostly he is the only one who even remembers time traveling of the three. For some reason, Broots being near Miss Parker has had no affect on changing her. He believes it's because of the close distance of her brother.  
**


	23. Don't Mess With the Crazies

**Broots House**

Jarod sat down behind the chair and studied the papers, as well as the documents on the computer. He sat the papers down and chuckled. Broots could have caught him a long time ago. His skill, he was showing up a mere day almost from his pretends. This guy was purposefully missing Jarod. Good guys in bad guy disguise. Great knowing he had one of them now. He'd have to remember to toy with him a little less.

Then, he found the hurricane itinerary on the computer. "Hang on." Broots already knew exactly where he'd been? "This is . . ." Broots had information on places Jarod hadn't planned on going to with the strangest notes. "Never simmed?" He looked at another one. "Father never died, won't show up for drug help. What?" He pulled them out, one by one. He didn't understand how this guy worked. _Is he crafting his own hypothetical guesses from news? _Maybe. Timmy did that when he was younger. Jarod didn't recognize the notes or the cases. It was a good thing he wasn't seriously pursuing Jarod outside of appearances.

Jarod almost walked off, feeling like he'd found almost all he could get, when he found a private drawer. Top drawer. Locked. It didn't take long for him to get it unlocked. Another minute of perusing. But when he opened it?

When he opened it . . .

* * *

Broots returned home. He planned on having a bath and relaxing after his day at The Centre. That didn't happen.

"You must be Broots."

No. Way. He hadn't heard that voice since . . . what felt like another lifetime. _Jarod's here? _Why was he there? Jarod wasn't at his home until the first time in the 90's when he was considered a mole. That wouldn't happen this time. Broots turned around. _Why didn't I ever put a gun down here yet? _Because he always knew what to expect. Except Jarod. Walking down his stairs. With old DSA's in his hand.

"Something tells me The Centre doesn't know you have these." Jarod held out the DSA's closer, as he moved closer. Step by step. "At first, I was hoping you had a couple of my sims you might have been selling on the side. You didn't, but you've got something, don't you? Interesting conversations going on that I've never been able to remember. Interesting conversations, had The Centre had them, could jeopardize Miss Parker's very life. Especially this one? This one right here." He held up the right DSA. "I have been trying to solve the mystery of _why_ Miss Parker escaped out in 1973 with me only to show up in 1984 again at The Centre. My parents never told me why, just said 'she saved you'." He walked closer. "Sydney never told me why, just said 'she saved you for her mother'." He walked even closer.

Broots was taking steps backward. "I-I know! I can't. Explain. I can, I mean, but you wouldn't believe me or I would have because- I mean- it'd be great to!" He exclaimed. "Really, you know? But?" Shoot. "I'd never hurt her, I was protecting her, because she'd never believe me either! No one would believe me, they'd think I was crazy."

"Mm." Jarod looked at the DSA's. "I guess you better try me."

* * *

Crazy. Insane. There it was though. That was Little Miss Parker's voice, and that was him. Talking in 1973 while busting out.

_"My mom was special, Jarod. She had this thing called inner sense, and she was able to project future events into her head, as well as the past. I'm going to grow up and go far away from here. You'll be trapped here until your older than thirty. When you get out, you have a hard time getting to your parents, your brother is killed, you never reach your mom, and I'm assigned to chase you down. I keep chasing you. I never catch you and I just have a bitter life with no meaning. I had her inner sense too. There's a lot out there, Jarod, and you have a real shot at getting it now."_

_"I don't understand. You know the future? You saw the future?"_

_"Honestly, Boy Wonder. I feel like I was the one who experienced it all." She went over to the phone. "Okay don't judge me too harshly." She picked up the phone. "Then again, you probably won't even understand what I'm talking about anyway." She dialed a number. "Hello? Hi, this is Miss Parker? Um? I have a little problem. My boyfriend kind of got stuck in The Centre?"_

"It's the truth, the honest truth. I never messed with them," Broots said. "I just snuck them out. They had enough on her. If anything happened, I wanted it to be gone. Or, for you to maybe . . ."

"Believe." Jarod sighed. Maybe Broots did have Angelo-like qualities because he was bordering on insane. "Hard to convince someone of time travel, Mister Broots."

"Y-yeah, but that's what she said. I mean afterwards you pretty much guessed she was on . . . something, but she wasn't. It's real. And? I? That's how I know where you'll be, and where you won't," he confessed. "I. I remember the other time too. It comes and goes, but ninety percent of the time, I remember it! Lyle does too, but not nearly as well. More like if he had a fever and could only pick out some details about an event. You know? It's still similar, except with some changes. I think it's called Déjà vu."

"Like me breaking out myself . . . as an adult?" Jarod said, not expecting an answer. "Was Miss Parker nicer in the other one?" _Were watermelons the size of grapes?_ How did Broots ever think he'd believe him?

"Like. Family. Friends. Sydney. I know Sydney."

Jarod looked at him. Like he was going to fall for that one. "Sydney who?"

"He won't know me, but I know him. This, um, last hurricane? The last one, Mister Raines ordered her to go. We stayed, but she went. You were out there. Uh? There was a little girl, parents died trying to save her. Miss Parker went and you both got caught by the bad guy. She was a little bit different after that. Like something happened."

Jarod looked back at the computer. That whole rambling wasn't worth anything.

"Look, I know it sounds like science fiction! I know in a million years that I would never believe it if anyone told me!" Broots gestured to himself. "Really, I-I'm not mad! Um. Sydney was close to you, and he never got close to Nicholas."

Jarod glanced at him quickly. _He knows about Nicholas?_

"He never would have found out without you. He told Nicholas the truth after the man that raised him died," Broots said. "What else? You're allergic to pistachio. No, I'd know that. Shoot. Oh!" Broots pointed straight toward him. "Mister Lyle is Miss Parker's twin, and she has no idea and won't until _after_ he gets his thumb chopped off by the Yakuza and taken out of The Centre and then brought back after Prodigy!"

"Mister Lyle?" The guy he just met in the hurricane? _He's flipped his lid, permanently._

"Oh! Ethan has it! You stole Ethan, right? He's not here, I looked," Broots said. "He doesn't have the time travel thing, but, he has inner sense. He _knows _things. That's cause he's the half brother of-"

"Miss Parker." Broots tried to shovel more information at him, but Jarod put up his hands. "Alright, I believe you, just calm down." _Back off slowly._

"You . . . you do?" Broots questioned. "Really? Well, I guess you might still get flashbacks. Déjà vu. Maybe it's not too incredible for you to believe? That's really good to hear."

" . . . you bet."

"Oh, of course. Flashbacks don't last long though," Broots said to him. "Yeah. I remembered vaguely as a kid, in the beginning. But you need . . ." He shrugged. "It stays with me most of the time. Not with her. I don't get it, but I think Lyle is like a . . . an opposite magnet. I can't do anything with him around."

"Sure." It was best not to tangle with him, Jarod just needed to get out everything he could. Once The Centre realized Broots was going to need professional help, he wouldn't be around there much longer. "Anything else you have, I _want_ it."

"I. Do. But."

Jarod waited. "What?"

"I think since you and Kyle screwed around with Project Gemini and Prodigy, The Centre wants a new Pretender. There's not a hundred percent guarantee though except with Miss Parker."

_Careful. _"Do you know why that is?"

"Oh. Because she's the heart. We're her keys," Broots said. "That's why you get flashbacks. Anyhow, a heart can only have a baby with a key. She did with me. So logically, it's probably a slam dunk to. . ." He sighed. "This is starting to sound a little out of your league."

"No, please go on." Jarod was watching his movements and watching his words, already starting to assess the best form of help he would need. "So Miss Parker, the heart, had a baby with you?"

"Nevermind. It doesn't exist, she went backward again," he said. "Anyhow, get anything you find in my office," Broots said.

Jarod would take that invitation. Investing longer, he had found several more DSA's. He handed them over and Jarod placed them away with the others. "I'm stealing your DSA player."

"Oh. Okay," Broots agreed. "I-I can get another one later."

Yeah, like they were granting him permission any time soon. "Are you dating Miss Parker, or anything similar?" Jarod asked.

"Oh, I wish." Broots said. "No. Trying."

Okay, she was just lying about that. Not the biggest deal considering she turned back time from having a baby with Broots. To Broots. _The heck The Centre do to his mind, and can it still be fixed?_ "Why can she only date from The Centre? Or was that a lie too?" Let's see where this one lead.

"Date. Marriage. Diet. Get Well Soon sent cards. Anything, Centre approved," Broots said. "It's part of . . . well, I mean, no one can prove anything. Even those DSA's, most of them were kept safe in Mister Parker's personal security safe. You don't just get accused of letting a Pretender go and get back to The Centre with no problems. No matter the age." He sighed. "Life was tough before on her. I was way too late on her mom, and her dad. The one she thought of as her dad." His voice rose at the end. "I just want her to be happy now. So, if you could? Please stop it with Thomas Gates. The Centre will kill him if he gets too close to her. They did last time and it tore her apart. She can't take much more."

Thomas Gates. _How did he know that I knew him?_ Jarod didn't leave a trace to a connection in any way. _Raines, he must have been messing with his head. _And the conversation with Little Miss Parker? It wasn't good. Unless The Centre was actually dealing in time travel (which they couldn't possibly be) then they had been tampering with their minds for some time. _That must be why. _Why she rescued him. Her mind wasn't her own."Does anyone else remember?" Jarod asked.

"Well? This other guy, Mister Lyle, he never comes with us. He's been here a lot longer than he should have been. He tends to keep leading the group to old places you wouldn't go anymore. Those sims or experiences that made you go, wouldn't happen. So. You wouldn't be there. Like?" Broots went upstairs and grabbed some papers. He headed back down. "Like, here? You never went through drug withdrawals from Raines experiments, so David Arnold never died, so you wouldn't be there to save his daughter. It's a chain." He handed it to Jarod. "The chain is broken in some spots, and linked in others."

"Broken chain?"

"Yeah," Broots said, handing him another paper. "That's a big one. I don't think he'll go though since you and your brother aren't there."

"Me and my brother? Which one?" Jarod asked.

"Kyle."

"This Lyle was there for my brother?"

"No, he was there to lure you. He had trouble with the yakuza because you stole a lot of money and they blamed him. He was trying to get back by capturing you and stealing your thumb." Broots laid the papers down. "A thing with fingers. I-I always wear gloves 'cause of it." He put out his gloved hands out in a surrender motion, then pulled them back again.

Trauma. Broots _always_ wore gloves, and from the way he 'showed' his hands still in gloves after confessing that? _Maybe that is the start of his problems, some kind of mutilated trauma. _"Would it bother you if I could see your fingers?"

"What? No!" Broots' voice had been firmly against that, he even put them in his pockets. "No. Besides, you already think I'm crazy. You've clearly gone into diagnosing me now, so no. And? I don't care if you think I'm crazy now. One day? You won't and you'll _want_ to remember this."

A no. Definitely trauma. _He's going to need therapeutic help and maybe light medication just to get over mutilation alone. _"Okay. Then we should continue. Lyle was going to cut my thumb? And then what happens?"

"Yeah, but Kyle showed up for you. You knew each other beforehand, but you thought he was dead. But now he'd be dead," Broots said. "Lyle kills your brother there."

"Kyle gets killed by this Mister Lyle?" Jarod looked around him more. Anything else he could nab would be good.

"Was killed. Other timeline. It?" Broots got quiet. "Like I said, broken chains."

"Yeah, like my brother being killed. That puts a _huge _hole in the chain." Jarod sighed. "All of these papers too." Then again? Wouldn't hurt to check them out. Maybe there was something to them, something The Centre did. Angelo did have a purpose, and Broots did manage to track him well. "Give me what you have."

"Well? Most of these are broken chains, Jarod."

"Broken." Jarod rubbed the top of his head. He brought up the paper of a woman named Jill Arnold. "Is she still going to be here suffering if her father lives?"

"I don't know, Jarod."

"Then it's not completely broken, is it?" He reached for the rest of the papers.

"Never Leave Miss," Broots said to him as he gestured toward his arm. "You always cover the last part of your tattoo so well. The Centre thinks it's never leave mistakes, but _I_ know it's Never Leave Miss. It's for Miss Parker."

Jarod didn't reply to that comment. The guy being out of his mind, yet some of the things he knew? It was so disturbing. "You don't have a problem with money, do you?"

"Oh. N-no," Broots admitted. "My dad was teaching me to try out stocks at the right time, but I just didn't want to . . . I-I just want to be." He shrugged. "The computer guy."

No kidding. Broots had millions. It wasn't a sign of something delusional, but most people didn't choose to live the way he did with that kind of money. _Say something positive. _"Money's not everything," Jarod agreed. "Many people don't realize that as fast. Glad you did." He nodded his head and went out the back door.

If Broots was having psychological issues this bad, then what about Miss Parker? Had those cleared up or was she still suffering from them? She didn't seem unbalanced, but neither did Broots until he talked to him one-on-one. Appearances could be deceiving. He'd be visiting her next.

* * *

**Miss Parker's Rental**

Miss Parker was boiling her water, waiting for it to get warm. She was going to have a quick box of Mac that she found in the back of the cupboard finally. Her head was splitting. The Centre was starting to drive her crazy with their tests after that damn hurricane.

"Didn't think you even knew how to boil water."

She grabbed the gun out of her holster and aimed it straight at the voice talking. Jarod. "Finally coming back home?"

He was leaning casually against her fridge. "How do you feel about time travel?"

Oof. "Getting a little lost in the adventures outside in the real world?" she asked. "I hear there's one right next to your old room, Jarod."

"Make jokes. You used to not," Jarod said. He looked around. "Pictures don't do this place justice. Isn't your daddy, Raines now?"

"Isn't your humor, lacking?" she said with the same inflection. "He is a biological father to me. That's it."

"Hm. Family troubles?" Jarod walked around slightly, not phased by the gun at all. He would be if she shot it. She was debating about that. "I'm good with family troubles. I was a family therapist. Among other things," he said.

"This is going to turn out to be some bullshit way to con me into telling you about your DSA's." She wasn't stupid. "I don't know where they are, because I don't care enough to know."

"Can you find them?" Jarod asked seriously. "I need them. I _seriously _need them, Parker."

"And I need a boy to get back into his bubble." She cocked the gun. Why was it so tough to move fast on him? "Give me what I want and I'll be sure to drop off the DSA's with a movie card to go with it. Free rental on me."

"You're not going to shoot me," Jarod said flat out. "Why shoot someone you saved as a child? It wouldn't make your mother happy."

"But it would make life easier." It would. Everything that she had ripped away from her because of that one mistake. She should have gone onto graduating college, learning her trade and taking over The Centre. Instead, she lived in a small rental, made a salary more meager than most at The Centre, and still had to show. Had to be obedient. She knew from an early age, you couldn't mess with The Centre, it controlled you. It was too poweful. All she could do was try to make it happy. She was lucky to be alive after that stunt with Jarod. Catching him was how she at least started to make up for it. Yet. "I hate you soooo much."

"I miss you too, Parker," he said as he moved quickly and disarmed her. "DSA's."

"Howl all you like, I have nothing to share with you."

"One day, you're going to get tired of The Centre's games and you are going to give me their location," Jarod warned her. "Nothing lasts forever, and by the look of your recent paycheck? I'd say you don't have much longer. Do you have a baby with Mister Broots?"

The hell? "There's not enough liquor in the world to get me drunk enough," she answered back. She glanced to her phone. Just a little out of reach.

"Has The Centre been taking you for any extra testing concerning pregnancy?" Jarod asked.

"Do I detect a hint of concern, Jarod?" She asked. That shit right there. "I don't know what the hell you've been reading, the only thing inside of me is burning hatred for you. Be concerned about your own self and your family. Every one of them will be found one day."

"We were having such a lovely conversation too." He shook his head and left the room. She heard the sound of the back door open and shut.

_Damn it! _Why couldn't she just shoot? He ruined her life. He ruined everything. Why couldn't she just shoot him? _Momma would be sad. _The same ultimate answer. _But The Centre' s not right without him. But she'd be sad. _A constant struggled. She paid attention to her boiling water again. Almost time to add the shells. _Milk? _She opened her fridge. No milk. Not until next payday. "I can take people hostage for The Centre, but I can't take a cow hostage for milk."

"Need milk that bad? Wow, that _is_ a bad paycheck."

Damn it! "Jarod!" She grabbed her phone and looked out the front window. Gone.

* * *

**Miss Parker Remembers: Nothing. She knows that she escaped with Jarod in 1973 and she was missing for ten years before being brought back. She remembers nothing else. She has all duties to The Centre. No matter how bad it treats her.  
**

**Jarod: He doesn't remember anything about time travel, but he does know that Miss Parker rescued him in 1973. He grew up with his family. The Centre still chased after him, and he still didn't have any DSA's. All he has are strange marks on his back he apparently had put there when he had his DSA's.****  
**

**Broots: His memory now stays intact, remembering the 90's and the current years he now lived in the past (1973-1997) Sometimes he'll have small relapses, but mostly he is the only one who even remembers time traveling of the three. For some reason, Broots being near Miss Parker has had no affect on changing her. He believes it's because of the close distance of her brother.**


	24. Never Take Anything For Granted

**The Centre**

_Okay. Firm, Broots. You can do this. This is your only chance. _Broots had always wanted to do it, but with Mister Lyle there, it was impossible. But, things were happening, and he was scared for her.

Her paycheck had taken another cut since Hurricane Cassandra. She had been taken almost daily to medical. She kept a stiff upper lip, and it was clear from her expression she was just as scared as him what they were doing, but she couldn't say no. It was like a thing probably from what they did to her. SL4. She _couldn't_ say no to The Centre. She was obedient.

But it was worse. She didn't know the future. Brigitte was warming up to Mister Raines now, and Mister Lyle was starting to date an asian. Broots caught Raines warning he couldn't 'take her out for dinner yet'.

Something only Broots understood. And the cloning? The cloning was interrupted, it didn't produce anything valuable. That was probably a good thing, but then that meant The Centre would be looking for a different way to get 'a Jarod' back into The Centre.

He even risked trying to convince Jarod. It didn't work. Hopefully, something would rattle him awake one day, but?

It was around the corner, he could sense it. He knew it. _My fault. I'll take the blame for this one. Squarely. I'm so sorry. _

Kyle and Jarod had long since taken care of the cloning experiments, to halt any success. The Centre was only running on reserves, the thinnest. Once again, nothing useful to The Centre. No more cloning, and what they did have was a long shot.

But . . . long shot or not, Raines knew something because he was taking that long shot with her of all people.

Raines was wanting to pair_ two_ Pretenders genes together. Especially with some Inner Sense. _If he accomplishes it, she'll live a few months to a year, tops. They'll have their prize! I have to do something._

He was her key. He had to be brave for her. He had to do something.

A part of him wished Jarod would have believed him more. He got the feeling that in the end, Jarod was just trying not to disturb his psyche any extra. He was asking questions he'd never asked him before, in a tempo he wouldn't unless he was a psychologist or therapist analyzing him. _I have to risk it. Jarod won't believe, and getting these two together long enough for something to happen without someone shooting? It wouldn't happen. I have to risk it . . ._ she was looking at the tickets he gave her. He kept his hands held back tight against him. For her. He had to risk everything, even his worst nightmares again. "I-if you don't mind?"

"You want me to go on a plane ride for a vacation to Tennessee?" She flopped the tickets down. "What's going on, Broots? Why would I drop everything to go to Tennessee?"

"A nice spot to relax, is all. Say you took the advice of your partner after the hurricane emergency. Needed a break." He cleared his throat. "And, should anything bad turn up on . . . Mister Lyle while he's out on a case too, you can't get blamed for it."

"Ooh." She leaned back in her chair. "I . . ."

She couldn't afford those tickets. The Centre knew that. "Tell them that I gave them to you," he recommended. "I mean, it is just Tennessee. You suspect it as some kind of romancing, but you're taking the free trip. I'll meet back up with you afterwards." It was the best excuse he had.

"Yeah. If you find anything and I'm right here, they will come right down on my ass. _Always_ first suspect," she muttered. She looked at Broots. "If I do this, you can get into his personal office. I'll be nowhere around. I won't be back until the lava's stopped spewing around here." She was excited. "I have wanted him out of here. I don't understand why we even have him here when half the time he's wrong about where Jarod even is. What does Raines even see in him?" She gathered up her things. "If I never messed up, he'd never be first choice of The Centre. I would be. Okay, I'll do it. I'll take a couple of sick days. You've got three days to find something on him," she warned him. "Excuses can't fly when I'm around The Centre. Somehow it'll get pinned on me. I know it. Do you have money for a hotel?"

"You bet." He gave her some more money. "I'll meet you."

Three days. Lyle would be on the opposite side of the United States as Miss Parker. _I can do this. _The Centre wouldn't expect anything from him. Too cowardly. Too traumatized. But. He had to face his own fears, and get her out.

* * *

**Jarod's Hideout**

_/"Feeling better. So? Your little escaped Pretender has been a naughty boy recently. He just stole money from your father's personal security safe. It's safe to say, your Daddy isn't happy. Add to that the children he broke out of here. They were special children. I still wonder how he knew about that? Where is he?"_

_"I think I saw him . . . Dancing with the kids down on Sesame Street."_

_"This is no game, he broke into my house! Fifty thousand. Fifty thousand! I had need of that money. The Centre is not mine, I need that money. He must have told you something. You were gone for a month and a half before my people found you."_

_"I've told you. He used his superpowers, got me a fake ID, and I was on my own. He didn't trust me. Why would he spill his guts out about his family or his plans? He helped me with the ID because I broke him out. That's it."/_

_/I gotta admit, it was a real nice touch. What better way to keep a young lady hidden from The Centre, then refusing to use its resources to get her? Bravado must be given. You made a mistake taking her, and now, you're going to answer to me!"_

_"What's wrong, Raines? Why not call for some backup? Oh, right, right. You have Mister Parker's daughter, his precious Angel, in one of Angelo's old cells. Even if you are his brother, it wound never turn out well, would it?"_

_"Jarod."_

_"Turning your own daughter into an experiment, you should be ashamed! No quick fix for you."/_

_/"What better way than to find out where you locked her up, than to make you mad with rage? Fifty thousand is nothing to sneeze at in 1974."_

_"That's how she talked too. Like she knew. Like she knew! How could you know? It didn't work with him."_

_"Fifteen year old little brat . . . is what you want me to believe. You don't know what you're doing! I didn't even have her the whole time."_

_"I did."/_

_/"Jarod? She couldn't walk for months."/_

Jarod finished watching everything he could. Reading every scrap. "Sydney." His voice was thick. "No. More. Lies. _Where_ was Miss Parker for those missing years?"

"Oh. Jarod? I don't know."

"Like I can believe you!" He grabbed his head. "I am watching footage, right now, of me and of her! Her being in one of Raine's cells and me trying to rescue her! Fess up, Sydney, or I will _never_ talk to you again."

"On your own word, you didn't want to know," Sydney pleaded. "Do I go with the wants of your present self saying that to me, or do I obey the boy that commanded I say nothing with the same threat! Hm? I let you down either way."

"I told you not to tell me?" Jarod asked as he watched the DSA over again. "Why don't I remember this, Sydney? How did The Centre keep messing with my mind for so long?"

"I don't know, Jarod. All I know is, from what you ever told me, it was sporadic. You forgot due to grief for a time, when you thought she was gone for good," Sydney admitted. "When you found her, you soon lost her again. You already seemed to know that you were losing it."

"So Raines had her, Angelo kept her, and then Raines had her through the rest of the year." That was one year solved of her time gone. "What about after? It was nine years later before she arrived back at The Centre." Jarod shook his head. "Did he have her again?"

"I think that is as far as I should go, Jarod," Sydney said to him. "Your mother would have more for you."

"How was she taken again?"

"Your mother, Jarod, my answers are not complete."

"If I stay near Ethan, I become triggered. Right? Into remembering what I forget?"

"The words he spoke. When he was returned to your family again, he usually didn't trigger you."

"But he was still trying to say something." That explained his strange words sometimes. "I've invited him to come over. He should be here shortly. So if there's anything else?"

"There's nothing else, Jarod. Nothing. I'm sorry."

Jarod nodded and hung up as he heard the knock at the door. He smiled at his little brother. "Ethan." He brought him in and gave him a hug. "Come on in. Let's have a chat. You want something to drink?"

"No. Chat about what?" Ethan asked. He looked around the room. "Not too homey."

"Not every place is going to be homey. That's what is great about a home." He went to the fridge, thinking about what he heard on the DSA again. Another half of his life, stuck in The Centre. That would be terrible. "Ethan? Is there anything else you want to tell me?" He tried to be careful. "The voices. Have they said anything else to you besides Cassandra?"

Ethan continued to walk around. "I don't know, Jarod. I'm not supposed to share too much. I concentrate on the here and now," he said. "Sydney taught me to live in both worlds, but dad mainly wants me to concentrate here. None of this art feels like it's you."

"No," Jarod said. "It's just a place, Ethan." A random place. "When I was younger, Sydney said you triggered me to remember someone."

"Miss Parker," Ethan said for him. "I know. You said her name a lot. But, that wasn't what you called her." He looked uncomfortable. "I'm working for the new pizza place in town. It's great. I don't want to talk about this, Jarod."

Jarod sat down and invited him to sit down at the table with him. "Ethan?" He gently gripped his brother's shoulder. "I know you've been told almost all your life about . . . your gift," Jarod settled. "I think you've done great with it."

"I could do better. I should have a big, comfy computer job," Ethan said. "If it wasn't for The Centre. That's what dad says, but I don't remember it."

"That's not a bad thing at all." He wouldn't. He was really young. It wasn't anything in his past stopping that, it was just how he connected with others. "Miss Parker disappeared for years, Ethan. One of those years, it wasn't good. Do you know anything about that?" No, Ethan was shaking his head no. "She is your half-sister. You remember that?" Yep, he knew that. Jarod pulled out a small picture of her from his wallet. He never knew where it came from. He had it laminated to try and take care of it because it always had greasy stains threatening to destroy it. Like uncaring hands once held it.

He gave it to Ethan. "That's the only picture I have of her. She chases me too hard to snap one," he joked. "Do you recognize her at all?"

"No," Ethan said. "She's pretty though. I remember seeing this." He gave it back to Jarod. "You could ask Sydney's boy, Timmy."

"I've shown him it before." To Timmy, it would be just an average picture too. He couldn't sense things like he could when he was smaller.

"Cassandra made you go digging," Ethan said. "I caused that. It just popped out the other night."

"Hey, it's okay," Jarod assured him. "Because of that, I went searching and I found a missing year of her life. I have something I can give her." She wasn't going to be happy that Broots hid it from her though, and it would dig up more questions. But, it was something. Ethan looked uncomfortable, fidgeting around again. "What's wrong, Ethan?" He was hesitant. "Ethan? It's fine now, okay? I'm not a little boy that's gonna be mad when you try to tell me something. I promise."

"Miss Parker," Ethan said slowly. "She won't know."

"She will," Jarod assured him. "She deserves to know. I'm sending this to her as soon as we're done talking."

"She'll never get it," Ethan said again. "She's gone again."

"Gone again?" Jarod picked up his phone and dialed her number. She always picked that phone up quick. It continued to ring. It hung up. "Broots." Had to be him. "I knew I should have forced him to see somebody. Damn!"

"Keys," Ethan whispered. "I hear keys and hearts." He looked at his hand and held up four fingers. He moved his fingers in pairs on a beat he whispered. "2 to 1, 2 to 1, 2 to 1, 2 to 1, 2 to 1, 2 to 1, 2 to 1."

"Two to one." Why was he moving his fingers in pairs? Jarod tried the same thing. "Two." He held up two fingers. "To one?" He held out his pinky.

"No." Ethan put up two fingers. "Two." He placed his fingers down and then help up two fingers again. "To one."

That was two to two, he was calling one of the two's a one. Why? "There's someone named Mister Lyle. Broots said he was her twin." Broots was compromised, but maybe there was something there.

"Broken," Ethan said. "Broken heart. He's not the same as her." He looked at his own fingers as he moved them back in forth in pairs. "I wish I could do more. I only get so much, Jarod."

"It's okay," Jarod assured him. He patted his brother's arm. "No one gets to know everything. You need any help though, with anything? Doing great at your new job?"

"Yeah." Ethan's face perked up. "I like it. No, I'm good, Jarod." He stood up. "Do you still want to see something with me next month? I don't know anything worth seeing right now, and I don't have a firm grip on my hours yet."

Jarod shrugged. "Something will turn up." It wasn't really a movie or a concert he was trying to see. He didn't reach his family until he was fourteen years old. That was most of his childhood away, and his memories stayed repressed of any childhood memories before The Centre too. He even had some memories missing between there. Side effects of The Centre.

Because of that, he tried to schedule a 'silent time'. Where he didn't cause any commotion, so he could spend time with his family without worrying about them being followed.

It wasn't always easy. He never wanted to miss a mark on his back. He failed more than succeeded, but every success was worth it. Someone was saved or spared or given something to enrich their life again. He had dates between them though and he didn't sacrifice that time. He knew the value of family well and he tried to spend at least a day a month with one of them. With a family of five, it was a little scrunched, but he also never missed a Thanksgiving or a Christmas. When he really could spare the time, if he could, he even saw them on their birthdays.

"Okay." Ethan nodded. "I'll see you then, Jarod. I better get back." He waved at him and headed off.

"Oh, wait." Jarod almost forgot. Ethan came back to the door. "Are you seeing mom again soon? I won't be able to make her birthday."

"I am," Ethan said, so Jarod went over to the window sill where he kept her wrapped gift and handed it to Ethan. "I'll get this to her."

"Next year, I'll make it, and I'll try to see her as soon as I can afterward," Jarod promised. "Tell her that?"

"Hm? Sure," Ethan agreed. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. I just . . ." Parker missing. Broots missing. "I'm fine, thanks. Sometimes I even need a reminder to appreciate things sometimes." After Ethan left, Jarod went and called up Kyle. "Hey there, Kyle. How are you?"

"Busy," Kyle said back, "but I always have time for family. What is it?"

"Oh. Nothing big. Just. Wanted to see what you were up to."

"Just doing my thing, Big Brother," he said. "I. I broke it off with Vickie though. Just didn't work."

Jarod was afraid of that. While he claimed he couldn't trust anyone because of his assets, or because of his past, Jarod knew it was really because he didn't want to start a family. Add more risk of The Centre refinding him and taking it. In fact, that was almost the whole family. Even Ethan and his sister barely dated, although they were all more stable and safer. "Sorry."

"Yeah." Kyle was sadder than he let on. He blurted it out because he wanted to get it over with. "Coming for Mom's birthday?"

"No, I can't. It falls on a bad day," Jarod said. "Right on a mark."

"Jarod, you are probably not going to make it anyhow. What is it, 10-5 you sense something and 20-1 you can do anything quick enough?" Kyle reminded him.

"I hate when you say the math out loud," Jarod blamed him. He was more right than he wanted to admit. "I can do something, half the time." It didn't completely save the day, but he could have some success. "If I could get the DSA's."

"You know how mom and dad feel about you going back to The Centre in any way. They find out and they won't be happy," Kyle reminded him. "Besides, they are going to be behind the biggest lock and key, Jarod. I want my DSA's too. I'd love to at least see something. Be lucky you have your strange tattoos. Speaking of strange, you talked to Ethan?"

"Yeah," Jarod said. "I just did."

"He's getting a little weird again. We should watch out for him better. I've been trying to get him a job out here," Kyle said. "He keeps declining."

"He wants to make it on his own." Having his brothers coddling him probably didn't feel too good. "His face lights up when he talks about his job."

"I know." Kyle's voice lightened up. "Won't keep me from still trying, Big Brother. I'll see you soon."

"Yeah. I'll see you. We'll talk more when you have time." Jarod hung up.

* * *

**Miss Parker Remembers: Nothing. She knows that she escaped with Jarod in 1973 and she was missing for ten years before being brought back. She remembers nothing else. She has all duties to The Centre. No matter how bad it treats her.  
**

**Jarod: He doesn't remember anything about time travel, but he does know that Miss Parker rescued him in 1973. He grew up with his family. The Centre still chased after him, and he still didn't have any DSA's. All he has are strange marks on his back he apparently had put there when he had his DSA's.****  
**

**Broots: His memory now stays intact, remembering the 90's and the current years he now lived in the past (1973-1997) Sometimes he'll have small relapses, but mostly he is the only one who even remembers time traveling of the three. For some reason, Broots being near Miss Parker has had no affect on changing her. He believes it's because of the close distance of her brother.**


	25. The New Miss Parker

**Broots House**

January, 1999

Broots left the office and headed out. When he reached the apartment he was renting, he opened the door and strolled in. Huh. Jarod was there. He didn't look pleased. "Hi." Still. "I-I don't suppose you know where I've been for the last year?" The Centre had no records of his whereabouts at all. He just showed back up, just like Miss Parker. He thought maybe Jarod had a clue considering he was right there. He watched Jarod walk up to him quickly, almost like he was wanting to strangle him.

"You! I know you had something to do with Parker's disappearance," Jarod accused him.

Broots couldn't say much to that. "I don't know anything. Do I?"

"I was getting closer to finding you, Broots. You were very good at hiding your past. I can see why, it wasn't pristine." Jarod held up a picture of a painting. "Nice painting in the photograph? There are even more I found, bound and unbound. Like the artist lived with you. I tracked down the signature to a ton of galleries. Nice little deal by an anonymous artist called Charity._ Who's_ Charity, and why were you dealing in her artwork?"

"Charity?" Broots didn't know. "I don't know. I've barely got enough focus to get an apartment after losing the house here." If Jarod was trying to find Miss Parker, he wouldn't have good luck with him. "What? You think I stole her? I don't know anyone who could actually steal Miss Parker. She'd have to be willing to go somewhere. I'm pretty sure if I tried something, she'd beat me up." Jarod seemed to see the reasoning in that.

"What are you doing in a small apartment?" Jarod asked. "You have a lot of money. Why are you renting a small apartment?"

"Oh. I don't have that much," Broots said. "How would I have lots of money? If I did, I wouldn't work at The Centre." Jarod was just staring at him. "What?"

"You need help," Jarod told him seriously.

What? "You know where I've been?"

"That's not what I mean. The Centre has screwed with your mind," Jarod revealed to him. "You don't know_ how_ I wanted to react when I found her last name was . . . Broots. What do you know about a Charity Broots?"

"I don't know a Charity Broots," Broots insisted. "Relation? I don't know where I was. If you know-"

"What? _Tell _you?" Jarod said angrily. "Tell you that you gave this Charity a fake age and put her down as your wife? A kid? Fourteen, you faked a marriage with a 14 year old when you were 19!"

"What?" No way. "I wouldn't do that. I wouldn't ever do that! Why would I do that? How would I even know a Charity?"

"I don't know, but Miss Parker is still missing."

"Miss Parker?" Broots was confused. This strange Charity person or Miss Parker? What was he talking about now? "You think this Charity is related to Miss Parker and my disappearance?"

"Who _is_ Charity?" Jarod said, gesturing between them. "Why did you leave everything behind for The Centre?"

"Jarod?" Broots didn't want to push it. He didn't. Jarod wasn't someone he should be messing with in whatever state he was in. Especially if he thought he was faking marriage to a kid. That would be wrong to Jarod, and Jarod was very into correcting wrongs. "A-are you saying I had Miss Parker as a 'Charity' all those missing years of her life?" Strange. His expression. He thought it would be colder with the accusations.

But there was something. Odd about it.

* * *

**Jarod's Hideout**

Jarod was looking over a stack of photos he was trying to make sense of, when a phone went off. Not his. He quickly dug for Broots phone he kept in a drawer, just in case 'Charity' ever contacted him. He had his phone and fake ID's already made kept close. He whipped out the phone and pulled up his voice changing program he had made previously in case it ever happened. Fixing the microphone near the phone itself, he answered. "Hello?"

"Broots?"

Bingo. _That's her voice. _

"I. I know it's been awhile. I didn't know if you even had the same phone number. I thought maybe, just in case. How uh? How have you been?"

"Charity." _Keep it simple, Jarod. _Not an angry tone. Not a mad tone. A missing you sort of tone.

"Broots." Her voice relaxed. "I-I know I didn't say goodbye in the best way. Well, at all, and I'm really sorry. It's been eating me up. A lot. I hate it, really. I displeased you and I didn't mean to. I was just trying to make the others happy. I want everyone to be happy."

"Hard to make the call after that." Yeah. Broots rattled on when he got nervous, but maybe being stunned would work for Jarod.

"Okay, you got me." She had a light chuckled afterward. A chuckle Jarod hadn't heard since she was a kid. "We should definitely meet up later to talk again about this. I want you to be happy with me. I don't want you to run away, but I want the others to be happy too."

Miss Parker definitely didn't sound like herself. It was her voice, but the way she spoke. "How about now?" The faster he pulled this off, the better. She was the one who suggested meeting, it should work. "Where are you?"

"Having a concert down in the docks of Florida soon. I can't meet right now."

"Well, I-I could come see your concert?" He stammered, trying to replicate Broots nerves and excitement as much as possible. "When does it start?" Jarod looked at his watch.

"In a couple of hours."

That was pushing it from his current area. Jarod stood up and started to walk with the phone, getting his jacket ready. "Where is it?" She gave him the intersection of the streets where it would be at.

"If you make the concert, I can have tickets ready for you and you can meet me in the back afterward? I'd like to discuss some things. Really. There has to be a way to work this out. I want you to be happy with me again. Please?"

Sometimes there were just really good days. Jarod dug into the same area he had kept Broots' phone, pulling out his premade ID's he'd need for Broots. "Sounds like a great idea, Charity. We'll talk. I'll see you there."

* * *

**Florida**** Dock Concert**

Jarod reached the ticket counter. Symphony? "Broots?" He held up his ID. They just looked at him oddly. "I'm being expected by one of the performers?" Jarod pointed out.

"Who?"

"Charity." He could only take what he had.

"Charity who?"

Oh, would she even use it? Probably not, unless she was left clueless too. "Charity Broots?"

"I don't know anyone by that name," he answered. "Sorry."

Jarod looked around again. Maybe there was a small nightclub. He heard Broots phone go off again. Without his resources, he couldn't mess with it. _Leave a message with something please._ He checked his new message.

"Broots? Just wondering if you made it yet? Not hard to miss, there's like a thousand people outside." Her playful laugh. "Everyone is really happy. You'll see. It's all going swell. If you're a little later, come to the tour bus. I'll let Donovan inform security you'll be coming. Bye."

"A thousand people?" _No way._ Jarod turned around and saw the Lips of An Angel concert, smack dab in the middle. That band was so huge, he didn't even consider she'd be hiding in it. Jarod started to head to the concert, but it wasn't going to be as easy to get in. There was security everywhere, Lips of An Angel wasn't a small concert with a five dollar admission. While he moved, he tried to remember how long that band had been around.

It would be forever until he got in. _Let's hope she's got some sway here. _She could be a lights producer, a decorator, or a backup performer. But, he had to risk it. This wasn't going to be easy. Worst thing that could happen is he was sent in the back of the line again. He moved forward, getting some glossy looks from people. He held up his fake license as Broots. "I'm Broots? I have a special pass?"

Just like that, done. She did have sway. Jarod made his way inside, escorted by a security guard of the concert hall. He took his seat and waited.

When the show started, the audience stood. His seating was right upfront so he tried to look at everyone. He saw the backup singers silhouetted in the back of glowing blue lights. Not good on the eyes, but good for setting a tempo on a show. The music started to play and he watched them all start to walk to the left of the stage. None of them walked in the same fashion Parker did.

Fog started to roll in on the stage as the first band member started to make their way out. Male, twenties, blonde hair, and a show outfit that he'd probably end up changing more than once as uncomfortable as it looked. Jarod didn't know how many were in the group. He didn't even know if they had a sound like Skint-Rabbit or not.

He did start looking more into music after meeting Huey when he helped with Jill. Thanks to one of the best things that had happened for him, Broots papers labeling the future 'broken chains'. He was able to help a woman, Jill Arnold, get her kid back. She had kept getting drugged by another woman who was marrying her husband. It wasn't much, and he had no right to set wrong by being there, but he felt better. It was still one more person he could help. Even if it wasn't for a sim.

If this went right though, then he wouldn't have to worry about only getting hints on paper or figuring out tattoos on his back. With her being gone from The Centre's eye, he should be able to stir her to releasing information about his DSA's. _Where are you, Miss Parker? _Another band member came out as chords started to play. Short black hair, another male strumming a guitar.

"Whoooooo! Jerry!" Jarod heard from behind him. Apparently that guy was named Jerry. The next band member had fuzzy red hair, medium length, and was wearing an uncomfortable looking outfit too. Jarod was hearing a lot of screams and jumping and 'Charisma!' around him too. So logically, her name must be Charisma.

Throughout the performance he kept his eyes on the dancers as they moved around, and he looked for any stage hands that were helping that could be her. Wherever she had been, she was hidden well. Then, as the red-haired member crossed his path, he recognized that walk. _Couldn't be. _She may have only chased him for a year, but he knew those moves. He studied his hunters in all their forms, and he'd even been familiar with her since she was younger. But, once she had a short speaking part in the middle of a song, there was no denying it. Two single words, but he recognized that voice and that laugh.

Parker was Charisma.

Then he felt himself getting shouldered by people with lighters. The crowd was swaying wide, so he had to sway in motion too or keep getting bumped.

* * *

Charisma knew about lighting, about producing and directing, about her vocals, and about everything extra she wanted to put into the band's performance. She had more control, more say so when they were doing single events for the band. Now that the tour started, she would have to leave that in everyone else's hands. She'd be too busy just getting from one venue to the next. Hopefully they did it right. Hopefully all the band members would still be happy with it.

During that time though, she would be able to concentrate on Nathan, so she looked forward to that. Very few people knew of her baby, most seeing her dog in the kennel riding along with her in interviews and such. Baby Nathan this, Baby Nathan that. They assumed she was just someone who was really into dogs. Sal, Henry, Megan and Donovan though, her top guards. Her band members as well. They all knew the truth.

Her band members wanted her to reveal his existence, but she didn't like that. She wanted them to be happy, but her guards said it was a terrible idea. That would make them unhappy. Charisma tried to please everyone she could as much as possible. Which her guards also hated. So she tried not to please everyone as much as possible, to please them. Nathan wasn't an easy fix for everyone's happiness. He was about a year and a half, but he spoke with the grace of a three year old. He was learning colors and picking up things so fast. It made sense. She was a quick study with art so he was probably a little genius in the making. His abilities were so quick, that she was counting on this tour to handle a large part of the fame for awhile. Two months on the road with Nathan and then just some concerts until her art picked up a little more again.

Her band would be happy, they would have extra publicity and money. Her guards would be happy, her baby was safe. Nathan would be happy, he'd have his mommy more to himself.

Although she was widely known in the cultural music industry as a member of Lips of An Angel, she was also known in the art communities too, under different aliases. For her main art, she connected it with Charisma, but everything she actually did? Most people would think it was too much for one person. Especially one with her responsibilities.

She already got grief from her band about trying to keep her other 'hobbies' open, when Lips of An Angel had already paid off for an average retirement in it's first year. It had only grown since then. That's where Broots started to argue with them. She hated arguing. He hated tours. Her band loved tours. He didn't want her in a band, period. They said to leave them. He said to leave them. It drove her so nuts that one day she just packed up and had to get away.

At least when she came back, she would be able to help work on the videos. Her video skills were something that helped put the band on the map in the first place. That and her songs. She was just a regular guitar player, but they had her around for her songs. They loved her songs. They had her write them so often, and she loved to write them. It made them happy.

It made her happy too because they encouraged her to do something with her money too. So she created something too. She called it _Her_ Centre. She had visions of her past. Cement walls. Cold streets. Needles. It grew with her, and even though Broots gave her the world when she was small to do anything she pleased? She wanted to do something with meaning. So she started her own non-profit business called Safe Place. It was a place where children that were neglected, or found themselves out on the streets with nowhere to turn to, or just couldn't find a place to go . . . could go. It wasn't a foster home or an adoption center or a homeless shelter. It was something else.

It was a place that was warm and inviting. It would have people who cared, and who could help children who had no idea what they could do to get help. ID's were not necessary to get the help they needed, just simple evaluations. Just simple discussion. Talking. Safety. Happiness.

Kids could stay as long as they needed to, they would be helped to find their next place, and to work out their problems. While they were there they could have fun. She had toys and games for the younger ones, but also plenty of books in the Library of Impossible Things. They could pull out any book they wanted to, from a firemen to doctors, to just learning how to make paper airplanes. Any age group could visit. She even found sixteen year olds that had turned to prostitution at her steps and found ways to help them. Personally, since . . . she had a feeling she went through something difficult too.

And just about all of her funding that she didn't need to use toward her career, went straight there. It was funded by her. By her own art. By her profits from Lips of An Angel. By the royalties of Charity and Charisma. By any outside projects. And Broots?

It was a shame that Broots didn't share her love for it. She wanted to make people happy. Everyone, she wanted to please everyone.

But tonight, he'd see. She'd convince him that they could all be happy out on the road together. Her and him and Nathan and the band and her wonderful guards. Everyone. Oh, she couldn't wait to finally see Broots again. She made sure to move out along the parts the security of the place would send him. She had done it last minute, and it was the concert's security that was handling him. Otherwise, she would find her great balding guardian angel. She had so much to share with him. So much she wanted to tell him. While she peered out on the corners and continued to sing the chorus of the song they were in the middle of, she also did the usual meet and greet of hands along the way. Just a small touch of her hand against the audience members, a simple action of affection toward the band's most dedicated fans and support upfront.

_"__Sydney__ always taught me that life wasn't about being fair or getting what you want. You have to accept all the consequences and actions in it. While freeing me, you doomed yourself to stay and live your life starting from now. Whether or not it is time travel or the purposeful or accidental use of illegal substances, the effect is the same. You and I are in this together now."_

_She groaned. "I should have just been shot."_

Her as a little girl. The boy that haunted her dreams. She stopped a few seconds of her singing as the memory invaded her mind, but she was used to flashbacks trying to take over her life. She quickly came back in on the next verse like nothing was wrong and kept moving along the line. To stop would make so many unhappy.

* * *

A memory. Brief that Jarod now remembered stirred within him. He held his hand out like the rest of the crowd, to see if she'd even recognize him. She couldn't touch everyone, but when he felt the lightest touch of her palm against his, it triggered it. She also stopped singing, mid-pause in the verse. Like she froze a second, but quickly rebounded on the next part. _She felt that too? _She was moving on though, onto different hands. _Parker. What was that?_

With another hour worth of concert to listen to, Jarod started to assess the words. Her moves. The vocals. Everything going on. The band sang songs of a mixture of things. Relationships, hard and good, but also about being lost, forgotten, and even abuse. . .

"Ah, I love this song!" Someone yelled beside him.

"Yes!" Jarod yelled back. "It denotes not putting outward beauty as more important than what's on the inside!"

"Huh?" The guy asked.

"The pulsing of the lights with grey and red, and the drowning tempos along with the style of the words and with the visual display of costumes they chose to wear conveys that there is more to someone than beauty alone!" Clueless. "I like the song too!"

"Yeah, it's deep!"

Yep. Deep.

Parker didn't short change it at all, she was putting just as much effort into it as everyone else. She moved across the stage, joining close with her band members, crossing them, and leaving out more toward the corners again. The way she was singing and yet hunting at the same time? Hunting for Broots. _He's not here. I am. _

Surveying the area while he listened too, he already knew this was going to be a tough pretend. Maybe his toughest. That concert area must have had 40,000 people inside with, from what the band seemed to be achieving via crowd and pyrotechnics, probably going 150-200 a ticket. He wasn't going to be able to be an average joe and reach Parker. He also didn't have a band, and if he _did _start mastering musical skills to create one, there's no guarantee he'd have any place to try and squeeze in or that they would want to associate with him.

With her stuck far away from the common man and with so much security? There was only one pretend he could get away with.

Celebrity bodyguard.

And he was going to need some hellishly good references.

And _that_ was only the beginning.

* * *

**Miss Parker Remembers: Nothing. She remembers Broots. That's all we know.  
**

**Jarod: He doesn't remember anything about time travel, but he does know that Miss Parker rescued him in 1973. He grew up with his family. The Centre still chased after him, and he still didn't have any DSA's. All he has are strange marks on his back he apparently had put there when he had his DSA's.****  
**

**Broots: He remembered his time in The Centre. Came back. Doesn't remember where he's been.  
**


	26. The New Bodyguard, Jarod Stryker

**Jarod's More Permanent Hideout**

Sydney opened the door as he heard 'come in' from the small shanty. Not so easy with all the papers on the ground. He slid himself along it and saw an album and print outs of a band called Lips of An Angel. "Jarod? You said you found Miss Parker?" He kept moving and saw a picture of a boy in a leather jacket with a red circle around him. He had a whole arsenal of the band on the ground and a little over his counters. Jarod never had much room in that particular place though. He kept it simple and remote, never risking anyone following him. It was his life line.

Sydney had been there more than once so he wasn't surprised about the assortment of pins and bulletin boards and maps and pictures strung all over the walls. Jarod always did his best to watch out for the dates on his back. He considered them 'countdowns', where he needed to figure out what went wrong by that day. Sometimes, he was lucky. Most times? By the time he figured it out, the deceit had already happened and he couldn't prevent it. Sometimes, he could help. Other times? There was nothing he could do.

And it tore at Jarod. He wanted desperately to find his DSA's, so that he would have the basic information he needed to work at it faster, in the time he needed. As, of course, with all things, the slower he worked on one the more likely he would let someone else down. He wished he could have helped him, but Sydney had not stepped a single foot in The Centre since 1974. He knew nothing to help.

Jarod was behind the computer, his eyes fixed to the screen as he glanced at Sydney. "Miss Parker made herself a little tough to get to. She's been busy since '97." He moved his swirling chair to the side and gathered papers that were in different clip categories. "This is the main information I have about the band she is in. It's called Lips of An Angel, and she's the songwriter." He placed it next to the computer toward the back. "She calls herself Charisma." He put out another stack of papers. "She also has art under her name Charisma." He laid out another four categories of paper. "As well as four other pseudonyms for different kinds of art styles." He threw one more on the end. "And she is starting a clothesline soon, under another pseudonym."

Sydney picked up the first stack and looked through it. "A band." He started to look through the arts, but glanced faster. "This in the time she was taken thirteen years ago?"

"No." Jarod grabbed another stack of papers from the other side of the computer. "I kept_ that_ in a separate stack. This is what Charity had." He pushed that toward the very end. "Something you want to tell me about Mister Parker's daughter, Sydney?" He gestured to the whole area he just laid out with the papers.

Sydney shook his head. "Unbelievable. I didn't know," he shrugged.

"She's a Pretender," Jarod said outright. "She has to be somehow."

"Well, that's good?" Sydney noted. "She has certainly made a life for herself," Sydney said as he was looking into Charity's earlier work. "She has really developed a passion for the arts." Brilliant little girl, turned Hunter, turned artist. "Her mother would be proud." He looked toward Jarod. "Why did you circle the boy in the picture over on the counter next to the band details?"

"Subconsciously, she remembers me," Jarod said. "Miss Parker never would be out there in the spotlights, her minds been erased for sure, but there's still something to work with." He pulled out a tape near the computer and placed it into a VCR player. He fast forwarded a little bit and then paused it, pointing out the boy. "A young boy. Leather jacket. Ghostlike."

"It could be just for the video," Sydney pointed out.

"The song is about abuse, and about two kids who seem to be friends. But separate houses."

"Still, meaning can be from anything," Sydney said. "It may have been inspired by anything." He saw yet another batch of clipped papers being given to him. He looked at them. "What is this?"

"_Her_ Centre. She created her own," Jarod said. "From what I can tell, most of her profit generation seems to go there, and not just from one of her aliases. All of them. They all go there."

Interesting. "She most certainly grasps something, perhaps unconsciously or not, about these issues." Sydney kept looking at the picture on the paper. He had seen the same strange appearance with the band pictures, but printers only went so deep into texture. "Do you have a decent picture of her?"

"That is it," Jarod revealed. "That's her. She's not even recognizable. I only recognized her moves and speaking voice. She has to be near someone for them to make out the light touches that made her look like her mother now."

He could feel Jarod's anger again. "I take it you think Broots did that?"

"He had her change her appearance." He was livid. "With the Centre screwing with her mind, her appearance was part of the last identity she had! To recognize herself."

"Perhaps it wasn't just him? Maybe he wanted to hide her from The Centre, but still let her have a life?" Sydney gave the packet back to Jarod. "What do you plan on doing, Jarod?"

Jarod took the packet back. He took a minute for himself. "I'm going to stir her memory, see if she spills anything about DSA's. Or, if she snaps out of it, she's going to lead me back to my DSA's or face the consequences of getting caught by The Centre again."

Sydney hid his sigh. "You know, most likely those were destroyed. They are the proof of what happened to you."

"Yeah." Jarod was clearly struggling with something. "All I get are strange flashes and the tattoos I somehow made as a kid before I lost the DSA's. I _have_ to try, Sydney."

"I know, Jarod. I know."

* * *

**Two months later . . .**

Charisma sang her songs loud and proud with all the dedication she could put into them. The concert area was packed and it was exciting. The rush through it all was intoxicating and no matter how tired she got performing, she kept going to make _everyone_ happy. The stage was large and the place was packed. Plenty of people came to see her show, almost every ticket sold. But partway through her performance, she saw something flashing.

In the back panels, where the band name had been lit up and changing effects, it turned into a solid red, then the single word. Parker. She tried to ignore it as she went on with her performance but it turned back to solid red, and then the band name again.

That was weird. Her security was seeing the same thing and it was already assembling itself. No one else noticed it though, or if they did, they thought it was part of the performance. She wouldn't draw attention to it. It would make others worry over her and she never wanted that. She made it through her concert with all of her security surrounding her. She waved at the fans as she was coming out as she took a safe path with them toward her tour vehicle. She had already checked out of her hotel. She had another two weeks before her next concert, so for now she'd be headed to her actual home.

She heard the familiar bark of her Baby Nathan. A guard was holding his kennel for her. A different guard?

"Greetings, Charisma. My name is Jarod Stryker. I'm new to your security staff."

"You must be real new, it never changes," she informed him. It was a firm rule with Broots. Too many changes, too many openings.

"Megan Cowles apparently quit," he said. "I heard she came into a great deal of money?"

"Jarod's right," Donovan, her head in charge said. "Got lucky and won herself a little lottery. She's taking an extended vacation. In the meantime, Jarod's been hired."

"If she's taking an extended vacation, why hire someone to replace her?" She honestly asked.

"Well, when she said 'extended', it sounded permanent," Donovan said. "Plus, Jarod has great resources and references. Even if she comes back, it would be good to keep him on the team. It'd be a _good thing_ to have him here."

"Oh. Well, all things change I suppose," Charisma agreed. She looked at Jarod. Hm? "We haven't met before, have we?"

He simply smiled. "I don't think so, ma'am."

Hm. "Oh. Well, welcome." She looked back toward Donovan. "I trust Donovan's judgment."

"Trust is important," Jarod said strangely. "Your dog?"

"More than a dog." She waved at the dog and opened the kennel to let him out. "This is Baby Nathan." She gave him a couple of good pets as he snuggled up next to her. "His name is always Baby Nathan. Baby Nathan comes with me everywhere." New guard. She looked toward Donovan again. "This is Baby Nathan."

"I think I've got the gist of that," Jarod said to her. "You really missed your Baby Nathan."

"Oh, you've no idea how much I missed him." She went past Jarod and moved to Henry. "Hello, Henry. Where's Sam? Er- Sal?" She sighed. "I hate when I do that. I'm sp sorry."

"He's up front, Charisma," Henry said. "You need anything special?"

"Nope. Just ready to go down with Baby Nathan and curl up." She passed Henry for her kitchen area. She needed something for the night before bed. She looked in her little fridge. "Oh Nathan, what are we going to get you, hm?" Let's see. She noticed Henry was calling Jarod away. Most likely letting him know a little more about how it went on her bus. Strange though, she had a lot more guards on the outside. He must have some track record to be one of the few on the bus. She grabbed Nathan's can of dog food as well as some actual treats for her son. She placed Nathan on her little table area and popped open his can. While he ate, she went over to her real baby.

_There was a big old smirk on his face as he took off his shades. "Hey, you're up."_

Okay. Same boy, driving a car, looking at her in the sunshine. That was a weird memory.

* * *

"Hey, you. Further, over here."

Jarod cautiously went closer. This guy had extra 'I don't like you or this' written on him since he found out he was going to be on Charisma's bus. Not a surprise, from what he could dig up, he'd have an idea about what he'd say. All in all, he may hate Jarod now, but he was Jarod's top choice so far for guarding her. "Sir?" He was all the way over by the corner.

"Listen. Okay? I don't agree with Donovan's thinking that you should be here on this bus. I don't care what your background says, or who you are endorsed by," Henry warned him. "Not even the 'personally by Cynthia Sloan', I don't care. See that sweet thing in the next room over? Us four. All the time. There is _very _little personal space unless she asks for it. It's been that way since I've known her."

"1970's," Jarod mentioned. "You've known her since she was small. Then something happened though?"

He seemed surprised. "Yeah. Something happened, and nothing is going to happen again. Not while we are watching her." He pointed to his eyes and then to Jarod's. "Got it?"

"She wasn't a celebrity as a child," Jarod mentioned. "She really had them as a child too?"

"The one who was always with her. He was _very _particular about her safety. I didn't know why before, but I get it now. Her mind? It's different."

"The man always with her? His name was Broots?" Jarod asked curiously.

"Yeah. You see him? You come get me right away."

"Got it, Sir."

"Good." Henry started to walk away.

Yeah. Jarod would have to work with him. If he was there for too long. He messed with the lighting to see if she would pick up on the name Parker that flashed up there, but she didn't stop performing at all. He went back over to check on her. Knowing Centre standards in the past, Broots had kept her safe enough and low profiled enough that The Centre never knew. Guards, money, and his previous computer knowledge? He sheltered her well. When he went over toward her room though, he heard something strange.

"One and two."

A kid's voice?

"Jarod?"

Jarod looked behind him. Oh. Donovan, the one he definitely needed to keep on good terms. "Sir?"

"Look, don't get too upset with Henry, alright?" Donovan. "He feels like he's responsible for losing track of her a long time ago, but he wasn't. We weren't on duty at the time. The guy who watched her, he even said she was okay. She just has some kind of amnesia where she doesn't remember us."

Amnesia. Not surprising. "I don't think Henry likes me on the bus," Jarod admitted. "I'm one of her closest guards and I was just hired."

"Three and four."

Jarod heard the child's voice again.

"She's always had four guards around the property, or around her. Certain hotels she'll lighten up some and take a room just for her, and we'd take separate on the opposite sides. Most times, we are around her. But? Megan bailed. Not that I blamed her, with that kind of money, who wants to work? But we did need someone, and she is growing in popularity. Which means we need to stay on top of her protection, including the most personal. She takes four."

Jarod nodded. "Everyone's different." At least Broots did something right. Instilled the need for protection in her.

"You were recommended by some great people, and getting a direct call from someone like Cynthia Sloan? How could I say no?" He gestured around. "It's smaller than most tour buses. She prefers small. She doesn't take the gigantic one with the band, they don't like her security setup." He gestured around to another room. "We sleep in two sets of bunk beds. She sleeps on the other side in her own private area. Eating time is on her schedule. You either eat with her, or you take a few minutes to get your own food. Sal always stays near her for eating. She doesn't really care whether you eat with her or not, as long as there are four guards around somewhere north, east, south and west of her. Like you saw tonight, she has a large escort of guards when she isn't in a personal setting. No matter what anyone says though, _you_ are on the top tier now. If you see someone screwing around, call them on it."

_I planned on that. _"Thanks for the breakdown." He moved back away. People work all their lives to attain some semblance of fame, and she already achieved it fast.

_/"Each of these files represents one of the children the Centre isolated as a potential Pretender. There were seven children your mother tried to save. But the secret to your past is in the eighth file. The eighth child."_

More memories. Him holding a file. Red file?

_/Miss Parker was standing there, ready to take him down, yet interested at the same time. "You've got my attention."/_

Why did that have her attention? What were those red files? He looked back toward her private room.

"And don't get flashy like that with the kennel," Henry said once more as he neared Jarod. "Baby Nathan isn't all it's cracked up to be. Using it as an introduction was stupid."

"Sorry, Sir," he apologized. "I heard online she was crazy about her little dog."

"Don't touch the dog," he warned Jarod again.

"Can I ask where she got it from?"

"It wandered on her property one day as a puppy," he said. "She's got a heart of gold and couldn't turn it away."

"Gotcha, Sir."

"But it's just a dog. It's a nice dog, but it's just a dog." Henry looked mad again. "Don't let a word out about Baby Nathan."

**_"More please."_**

**_"More, Nathan?"_**

**_"More please."_**

**_"You ate two pieces already. Broots would be unhappy with the amount you ate. "_**

**_"I ate three pieces. More please."_**

**_"You'll get a tummy ache. That won't make you happy. No more."_**

**_"Okay."_**

"Are there other band members here visiting?" Jarod leaned against her door, watching her. Trying not to look too interested, but glancing here and there. She was supposed to have her own tour bus.

That terminator eye that he had seen for that year of her hunting him, it was gone. It didn't even look like she knew basic defense. She was relaxing on her bed with a small child. A very small child. A little older than one. _No Centre in your life. Look what you could achieve. _"She's a mom."

"Yeah, she's a mom. That's the real Baby Nathan. Not a word about it," Henry said. "Definitely don't bother the kid. Don't bother the dog or the kid."

"I won't tell anyone, Sir," Jarod said. "That's her business. Just wish someone had informed me ahead of time." Still, now he was interested. His deadly hunter had herself a little kid. _She's clueless about me, The Centre, and she has a kid inside of a rising band. This just became riskier._ There was someone innocent involved in his plan now. He stepped into her room more fully. Nathan had short brown hair and was playing with snack stick wrappers on the ground in his overalls. "Sorry if I misstepped about your dog."

Charisma looked toward him, with a small raised eyebrow a second. Then her lips curved upward into an adorable smirk. "Henry said that, didn't he? It's fine. Sorry about the surprise guest, it's a strong point not to discuss him off my sites."

"It's good to be protective," Jarod said. "You're making a lot of waves right now in entertainment. Singing and videos are one thing, but aren't you even displayed in galleries?"

He caught her by surprise. "Some of my new work is, but mostly my older work. I didn't know you knew about that."

"I'm a top guard, I made sure to do my research," he told her. "Except for what I couldn't be told." He gestured to her son. "How long are you keeping him a secret?"

"Until after the tour, or the press finds out," she admitted. "I'm _very_ careful with him during concerts. No worries either, Henry is also hired officially as my security nanny. Nobody else. Just guard him, same as me. No other obligations fall to you, I promise."

Oh, that's why Henry was more high strung about them. He was both. "More than one profession. I've done that. It could be tough on family life though."

"Not really, it feels natural. Anything I learn, it gets incorporated somewhere. Otherwise what use is it to learn if you can't use it in your life to make someone happy?"

"Yeah. Everything into work." Nathan held a block out. "Woof."

"Right. The dog goes woof," she said back to Nathan.

"Black dog goes woof." He picked up another block.

"He is very advanced for his age," Jarod said dropping the first hint she should get out of there. "He might be a genius."

"Oh no," she disagreed. "He's just like me."

"Quick study," Oliver said.

"Yep," she agreed with him.

"Hey," Sal passed Jarod and went right over to Charisma. "Here you go."

"Ooh, thanks." She held her new book up and started to read.

_Advanced lighting? She puts everything into it. Like every new thing she learns. _"Advanced lighting? I didn't know that was also your thing," Jarod said. "Cooking is mine. Do you cook?"

"No." Straightforward.

"Have you tried?" he pried. "If you know advanced stage lighting for your own performances? I'm sure you can cook some rice."

"White rice," Nathan said. "More please?" He held up his empty snack wrappers he'd been playing with.

"Moderation will leave you happier," she insisted. She leaned back in her chair. "I could probably catch onto the basics of cooking. Everyone does, but it's not my thing."

"No, art is your thing," Jarod said. "Vocal, graphic, visual, tactile." Obvious but. "Have you ever dreamed of doing anything else? Ever think of getting a doctorate?" _Ever think of getting out of this hot spotlight you've placed yourself in with a child The Centre will definitely want? _

He should be seeing some of the old Miss Parker. "I'm not a genius, Mister Stryker. I work with mediums and learn about them. There's a difference. I can't get a doctorate."

"Maybe you could?" Jarod suggested.

"I?" She pulled herself up from the bed. "It's time for bed."

Jarod noticed Henry and Donovan next to him outside of her room now.

"She doesn't make this job hard," Donovan told Jarod. "At anytime. Charisma is literally a pushover, always trying to make others happy. Anything controversial and she'll clam up."

"Told you," Henry warned Donovan. "He might be a good guard, but if he stresses her or Nathan out, he's out."

"I didn't mean to," Jarod said. That was the relationship he just had with her when he was running from her. Bluntly honest and curious. "I've heard about what she can do. It's fascinating, and I just wanted to see if she had anything else she wanted to try."

"A guy could only wish," Sal said as he came from the front. "Who wouldn't, you know? Want her to explore new things?"

That made Jarod straighten up. It wasn't the words, but the connotation in which he said them. This guy did not make a good bodyguard at all.

"Sal," Henry chided him. "Don't."

Sal shrugged and walked off. As he walked by, Jarod eyed him. He eyed him back and accidentally bumped him. He headed toward the bunk beds. Jarod looked back at Henry and Donovan. They watched their client well, but why did they allow Sal to stay that close? "Looks more like guards watching other guards around here," Jarod said not missing a beat of what happened.

His observation was understood. "Sal was fresh and young when he was first hired," Donovan said. "The one watching her wanted someone here that was younger to make her feel more comfortable back then."

"Sal is off limits. Charisma will never fire him, she's too nice. She is the final say," Henry said. "Not hard to spot though, is it?"

Jarod stepped forward. "He shouldn't be allowed to speak about a client like that," he told them. "That's completely unprofessional." They should be doing something.

"He stays upfront to survey the road," Henry said. "Don't think we haven't tried. You can go back there right now and tell her what he said. It'll bounce right off."

"Why?" Oh no. "Don't tell me they were once an item?" A picture of that guy picking up that innocent child came to his mind. His mission had now changed. From getting her to slip out the DSA's to him, to protecting her toddler and getting it out along with her.

Then the DSA's.

"No, he wishes," Donovan said. "She'll just say 'I could never do that to Sal. It wouldn't make him happy to lose his job. He is very good at his job too. I trust Sal with my life."

_Ah. Trust him with her life. Sal to Sam? Her sweeper._ Her mind was confusing Sal with Sam. Her trust in Sam she always felt, was being misdirected at Sal. He was built about the same, had a similar kind of voice and name.

"Well, who's a pretty doggy?"

Jarod quickly turned around and looked back. Sal's voice came from her private room. He didn't go to the bunk beds after all. Jarod went to check on her and saw Sal petting her dog. Both Baby Nathan's were now in the same room. She didn't mind. She was writing in a notebook with her little boy examining her necklace steadily.

Jarod went over to Sal, making sure he saw his feet in his view. He looked up toward Jarod. "Front needs surveillance, Sal."

"Would if I could." He stood up and looked toward Charisma. "Turning in soon or staying up later?"

Charisma yawned. "Turning in soon, Sam."

Jarod didn't watch Sal correct her. He'd fix that. "His names Sal, not Sam."

"Whoah, hey. I'm whoever, not choosy." Sal rolled her eyes.

"No. Um." She stopped writing and looked at Sal. "That's not right. Jarod Stryker's right. Sal, not Sam. I'm sorry again, Sal. I just." She shrugged. "I don't mean anything by it. I hope that didn't displease you?"

"It's no problem, Charisma." He practically glared at Jarod. "New guy just needs to figure out the boundaries that are important is all."

Jarod watched him leave the room. _Sal is the one who eats with her? _Not alone starting tomorrow. He looked back toward her and watched her writing down more words. "It never turns off, does it? Fountain of ideas."

She stopped writing and looked up at him. "There's always new, unexplored pieces and ideas. Words that haven't ever been uttered together in a single line that, when they are, can never be pulled away again. They have to do what needs to be done." She gave him a small smile. "Sorry I went off on you a bit." She fidgeted with her pen. "I never do that. I don't know why I did that. Do you have any kids or a wife? Close family? If you do and you need certain days off, I need to know in advance. I've got you 24/7 for the tour, but if Megan stays gone, I'll need to know your usual schedule. Scheduling can get heavy fast sometimes and I'm used to guards with no family. I don't want to put you into a tough position that will make you miserable."

Happy. Pleasing. Miserable. All the words she used. The way she spoke? "I don't have a wife or kids," Jarod told her with a small smile of his own. "I have family I care about. I like to stay close to them for certain things."

She closed her book. "That's good to hear. I don't remember mine." She stood up. "Probably already know that."

"Yep," he said. "Visions, sometimes. Right?"

"Yes, but I try not to let them get to me." She shrugged. She rubbed her lip briefly with a finger. "Anyhow, I am off to bed. For real this time. Sorry. Ideas pop in, I have to stop and write them down. You never know what will be the next hit that will make the band happy."

"I know the feeling. That's fine. Better go hit a bunk bed," Jarod said gesturing outside. "Goodnight, Charisma."

"Hm. Goodnight, Mister Stryker." She looked behind. "Night Henry. Night Donovan."

Right behind him. _Good. They should be._ He turned around and headed out to the bunk bed room. It was small. She cared more about her work and her protection more than what she drove in. _When she remembers me. Her __Centre Safe Place__ may not last much longer. If only. _If only she could stay that way. Not famous or anything, but just . . .

_/Jarod paused for a little while, watching her all curled up, staring outside. Not quite the tall voluptuous female authority she'd been in the future. In all honesty, it was the way he preferred her. Without heels or dressed in black and brooding. Just there. Just a girl, watching snow fall./ _

That was one really odd flashback. Yet again, like the concert. It had nothing to do with a sim. When in the world did he see her looking out of a hotel window so small?

"Charisma!" One of her band members came in past the other guards and knocked on her door. Since none of them reacted, Jarod didn't either. He watched her open the door and her band member spoke to her. "Meeting. Let's go. Leave your stiffs. Bring the little man if you want. Jenny will carry him."

"Will do." Charisma headed to her private room with Henry right behind, until Donovan stopped him. He motioned for Jarod to go instead.

"The hell?" Henry complained. "He's still new. Nathan's my watch."

"Jarod, survey the place and get to know the other members," Donovan warned him. "Remember. You're her security, not theirs."

Jarod nodded getting the hint as she came out with her journal and Nathan. He watched as one of the band members came in and spread out her hands to the little toddler.

"It's the Cookie Muffin Man!" Charisma gave Nathan over easily to her. "Who's the Cutie Cookie Muffin Man?" She looked at Charisma. "Are you ready?"

"Yep." She held up her notebook and headed out.

Jarod moved right along with Charisma. "Still need one stiff to come along?"

"Don't worry about it, Mister Stryker," she said. "I always have one around, and they'll have one on their bus too. Donovan had you come instead of Henry though?"

"He wanted me to get to see the other members," Jarod said. "You are traveling together. Makes sense. You could just call me Jarod too."

"Jarod. I take time to get used to people, sorry. I apologize for their behavior now too," she said to him as they continued to walk. "Some are great. I trust Jenny with Nathan's life. Not everyone in the world is the nicest. They try to be. No one's perfect."

"No, but, they can still be good on the inside," Jarod told her. "Deep down."

"Real deep down," she said. She gestured to the full band's bus.

A guy swung out of the door, looking toward her. "Well it's about time. Come on, up we go." He looked to Jarod a moment before going in.

* * *

**Miss Parker Remembers: She apparently remembers Broots, and he had kept her tucked away safely with four guards. No time travel memories. No Centre memories.  
**

**Jarod: He doesn't remember anything about time travel, but he does know that Miss Parker rescued him in 1973. He grew up with his family. The Centre still chased after him, and he still didn't have any DSA's. All he has are strange marks on his back he apparently had put there when he had his DSA's.****  
**

**Broots: He remembers the Centre and came back to it. No time travel memory.**


	27. Her Eyes Devoid Of Life

**The Band Members Bus**

Charisma walked in and saw Jerry on guitar, strumming away. Mitchell moved to the table along with Dew, the new backup guitarist. She went over to the table. Their bus was so much bigger than hers but they were all traveling together. They didn't like having all of their guards and her guards though. And she didn't part with _any_ of her guards, that made Broots upset. She compromised and used her own van. Even at the request of none, she still had one guard with her all the time. For Broots and for her guards. It seemed to be a decent compromise to keep everyone relatively satisfied.

As long as everyone was at least partially happy.

Jenny sat Nathan down and he walked to a little toy drum set that was next to another little boy.

"We said no stiffs, Charismy," Mitchell complained to her. "We've got two bodyguards right outside."

"I always have one of them," she insisted as she slid Mitchell her journal. "The others will be upset if I have none, but I only brought one. What do you think of that?"

Mitchell picked up her journal and looked at it. "I think you keep elevating yourself into a newer ground, Charisma. Let's hear you beat it."

She took the book and went over to the small piano room they kept. There were several instruments there, same as on her bus. She started to play the tune she heard in her head as she thought about the lyrics. She heard Jerry start strumming on his guitar not far away. The music was tougher. Darker. Her work was transforming more every day. She had started with lighter songs, but lately they had been morphing into more emotional darkness, a dissonance between herself she felt. Good and bad. Right and wrong. Shades of several grays between those colors.

"That's the shit," Mitchell said as he stayed near the piano. "That's the real shit right there. That's why you scored the interview."

"Language," Jenny reminded him.

"They just wanted a front face." Charisma played a few notes between while she spoke. "I didn't like being a front face."

* * *

Meanwhile, Jarod was watching Nathan bang on drums. He was slower, more methodical wanting to listen to notes. Nathan kept pushing the other boy's hands down when he tried to go full at it. _Got to learn to get along with the rest of the world. _At least Parker was letting him socialize with others. Restricted, but others.

"You're going to be in a band, you have to be a front face sometimes," Mitchell told her. "Besides, you write the lyrics and the music to the songs. Hell, you even design half the videos yourself. Jenny, Jerry and I can't always be out front."

"I know. I try to do my part," she told him as she played a few more notes and then closed the piano. "I don't want to get seen as the band itself though. That doesn't seem right."

"You want to back out of it?" Jerry strummed. "We are just starting to get real recognition. I mean, it's been epic, Charisma. But, if you wanna back out?"

"No." She didn't want to. "I just can't let it consume my life. I have my Centre to take care of with my other work. I am on this tour to please you so then I can go and raise Nathan better. That will be good for him."

"As we get bigger, it'll take up more time," Jerry said as he continued to strum. "That's life. Make a career in one thing and the others are hobby."

"I have multiple careers," she said. "Not just here. I can handle it just fine, don't worry."

"But _this_ is one you are recognized in," Jerry warned her. "Face it. You can't juggle everything. Pick a choice. You want Lips Of An Angel? Or are you just going to toil around with some paintings and sculptures and crap."

Toil? _Some people never understand._

* * *

"I don't toil," Charisma assured him. "I have feelings for everything I create, nothing is more important than the other."

"Look? Everyone has a hobby, and then they have that thing that makes all the money," Mitchell said. "Right now, Lips of An Angel is paying the bills of everyone here. It's only going to rise, especially since you scored that interview. Too damn pretty to say no to."

"Not really," she disagreed. "Broots wouldn't be happy with me here without it though." She touched her nose self consciously. Jarod knew what that was about.

"Aw, you are too bashful," Mitchell said as he stood up and walked over by her ear. "You are plenty beautiful- Hey!"

Charisma watched as Jarod Stryker pushed him away from her. That in turn made Mitchell's guard react back to Jarod.

"Hands off," Mitchel's guard warned Jarod.

"Here too," Jarod said back. "Your client shouldn't do that and you know that."

"The hell you think you are doing?" Mitchell asked Jarod, trying to push him back, but his own guard was stopping him. "I'm a ****ing member of the band!"

"I don't guard the band, I guard Charisma," Jarod answered. "What kind of security would I be if I just let someone walk on over and assault her?"

"The F word? Really, Mitchell!" Now Jenny was yelling too. Charisma and her both got up to go get their children who were now crying from the fuss.

"A dab on the cheek, damn!" Mitchell continued. He gestured to Charisma. "See? _This_ is why you don't need so many damn guards, they are just ****ing assholes who overreact to every ****ing little thing!"

"Settle down Mitchell!" Dew said. "Damn. Getting guards worked up and babies crying."

"Agreed, Man, just chill," Jerry said.

Charisma bounced Nathan lightly in her arms. "I'm sorry, it just happened. It's not Jarod Stryker's fault, he's new and serious. It's not your fault either, it was just a little kiss on the cheek. No one is to blame." She smiled at Nathan. "Everyone needs to relax and be happy and shut up already." Charisma stopped. "Sorry. I mean. Some warning, Mitchell, and stop cussing."

"Ooh." Jerry strummed another tune. "Talk about shot down cold. Maybe we should change from Lips of An Angel to Broken Angels. You are finally turning a little dark, Charisma."

"No, I'm not. I'm. I shouldn't have said that. Sorry, Mitchell. Just, don't do that."

"****in'." Mitchell took a seat glaring at Jarod. "Gonna bring a stiff, you should have brought Sal. At least he doesn't overreact. Hell, he's tried to smooch you a time or two right in front of us."

"Stop." She held her hand out to him. "Don't compare them against each other. My guards hate that. If you don't mind, please stop."

"We keep one, to guard three," Mitchell complained. "You keep four personals around all the time, and like fifteen around you for your public events. To please someone who isn't even here anymore."

"Can we just shut up about that already?" Jerry said, tired of Mitchell too. "Damn. We are going to be spending the whole summer touring. Hopefully making a name for ourselves even more. Let's not piss off the, I don't know, _actual _songwriter?" He looked back toward her. "Didn't mean anything about the dark comment. Just teasing. You are nowhere _ever_ near dark, Charisma. Just a joke."

"Oh? Sorry for not understand the joke. Thanks." That was good to hear. "I have these feelings, inside of me." She moved Nathan toward the other side of her shoulder since he was calming down. "Mixing and shifting and, I don't know. I guess I'm finding myself."

"Well, keep finding yourself. No matter what you write, we'll play it. It all has heart," Dew said to her. He winked with a friendly little smile. Oh, why couldn't he be first instead of the new backup?

Oh, he was so sweet. That genuine smile. Reminded her so much of Broots.

"You look like you're falling asleep," Jerry said to her. "Go on, head back to your bus and get some sleep with Nathan. We'll see you later."

"And take your stiff with you," Mitchell added.

Charisma stood up and headed out. "What a night," she groaned. "They could have saved that for morning." No, she was doing it again. "What is wrong with me?" Then she remembered Jarod was there. Shoot. "Sorry. Like I said, they don't always play nice. It's not their fault, it's late and they are tired. Not that it's your fault either, it's no one's fault."

"Nice or naughty, at least they aren't boring," Sal said from her bus opening. "Back from your meeting?"

"If you can call it that." She said. Now they had her wired awake again. Still, she would at least go to her room. It was getting late and if anyone wanted to sleep, they could. Nathan didn't act like he wanted a nap anytime soon either. Maybe he could oblige her on his toys too. "Hey, guys." She saw Henry and Donovan. "Probably going to work a little later. Get some rest if you want." She then turned to her room.

"May I speak with you privately, Charisma?"

Jarod's voice? _In my room? _Still. They all had their quirks. "Sure." She watched him close the door.

"Sal shouldn't be one of your closest guards," he started.

Oh not this. "I've known Sal for a lot longer than you," she pointed out. "He does his part like everyone else."

"He speaks rudely of you, and if your band members are to be believed, I think he himself has harassed you." Jarod stepped a little closer from the door. "You shouldn't put up with that. While it's invaluable to have someone you trust, you need to know when that person can't do what they once did." He gestured out the door. "Fire him. Please."

Never. "Everyone makes mistakes, but I trust Sal. I know Sal. He'll be fine." Just like Henry and Donovan. It was Jarod she didn't know. Yet, she oddly . . . wanted to trust him too. She watched Nathan move over toward his xylophone and hit his chords slowly, one at a time.

* * *

"I know you're stubborn, but you are not blind." Jarod brought out a pair of reading glasses. "Did Donovan tell you I have more than one career like you?" She turned to look at him. "I am also a licensed psychologist and therapist." The old Miss Parker would have rolled her eyes and told him to get the hell out. But. Charisma? She wasn't pleased, certainly, but she didn't throw him out. Of course not. All she wanted to do was please everyone, all the time. The Centre messed her up so much, it was hard to see Miss Parker in her at all.

"I've already seen one of those. They don't help. You could have told me that ahead of time. It would have been more polite. Not that it was wrong, I don't want you to think that, but it? Nevermind."

"I wanted to see how I was treated as just a bodyguard by you," he said curiously. "A lot better than your band members. Not a hello or a greeting, which is fine, but stiff and actually pushing hard enough to make me push back. Do you know why you were on the interview and not the others?"

"They wouldn't treat anyone bad there," she said. "Donovan can hire the other security, I trust his judgment in that area. I didn't ask for help in any other area."

"No, you didn't. That's fine," Jarod eased off. "I just thought you should know, if you want an ear to listen? Mine is open. Also, I could help you with one of your problems."

"I have a problem?" She asked. "Where do you think I have a problem?"

"You have several. First one being Sal."

Not again. "Extra licenses won't make me change my mind," she warned him. "Donovan is the captain of his security ship, that's fine, but I'm the leader of _this _ship, and if you don't like that- I am whoah." She touched her head. "I overreacted. Sorry. I didn't mean to yell or be unpleasant. It's just, I know Sam. I trust him. I'm not losing him."

"Sal or Sam?" He asked her. "Do you know what I think? I think in a past you don't remember, which was a huge chunk of your life? You might have known a Sam. Not a Sal. That could be why you keep messing up his name even after all this time. He may have had a similar physique. Maybe similar voice. I bet if he did exist, that Sam would never let you down. I bet he would take good care of you." Jarod inched closer. "And I bet? He wouldn't want you to give someone that reminds you of him, that same full trust. He'd probably see it as a disservice to him."

She sat up slightly, like she was considering what he said. "You think I knew a Sam?"

* * *

"You never mess up Henry or Donovan," Jarod pointed out. "I am brand new, and you've never messed up my name yet either today. Since Sal is so close to Sam, when you are instinctively thinking, it could be slipping out that way for a reason." _There we go. Now she's thinking. _

He could hear a gentle sound of a few of her teeth biting up and down on each other. He'd noticed her teeth weren't the best more than once while she hunted him. In the visions he had of the red files with her, her teeth were almost perfect. Strange.

"Broots, my friend, he wanted to fire him before," she reasoned. "I can't . . . I just can't do it. It would make him unhappy. I? I need to . . ."

Jarod looked at her eyes. He already had. He already knew something was wrong for some time. At first, he liked it. The firey, burning rage had ceased. The more he looked though. The more he heard her. "You're a blank slate." What did The Centre do to her? She wasn't there of her own free will. She was there for everyone else. She was there for her band and what they wanted. She kept one guard everywhere, to keep her guards happy. She became stressed when she realized she couldn't please everyone. Even her Centre Safe Place. She built it for others. To make others happy. "Miss Parker."

She wasn't there. She was missing. While her voice said gently confused and forgiving like some kind of princess, her eyes seemed almost black. Devoid of life. More machine than woman anymore. Now he wished more than anything he did see something inside of her. _Okay. _As much as he hated it, she would need professional help. He would have to get her and her little boy out of there, and then find a place for her to get better. "It makes me extremely sad to see him here, willingly hurting you." Fine. He'd fight with what he had.

"Oh, don't do that," she pleaded. "I don't want you to feel hurt. He doesn't hurt me. He's fine."

"I knew someone like him once. He hurt so many people that I_ loved_," Jarod continued. "Every time I see someone like him take advantage of others, I want to run and hide. If he doesn't leave, there's no telling what harm I may cause myself."

"What? No!"

The one who hurt the most would win. "Please?"

"I can't bear to hurt anyone," she said.

"I can do it. Just say 'yes', and I'll get it done."

" . . ." She grappled with the decision. The fact she couldn't make everyone happy. "Not fired but off the bus, Yes please, but don't tell me about it."

"Don't worry," Jarod assured her. "Henry, Donovan and I will take care of it so he won't feel sad at all."

"Four guards on the bus," she insisted. She held up her fingers. "Four. Broots always wanted four."

"Okay," Jarod agreed. "Four."

* * *

"Whoah, whoah, whoah!" Sal complained as Henry and Donovan practically threw him off the bus. "The hell is this?"

"You're not part of the top tier four anymore," Jarod said from behind Donovan. It was obvious these two had wanted to kick him out a long time ago, so he let them do it. "Mutual decision among us. We're pulling in someone different. You're not fired." Yet. "Just not on the bus tonight. You have your wallet for a hotel or do we need to take it off the bus for you?"

"Bull!" Sal complained. "I want to talk to Charisma. She's the boss, this so-called mutiny against me shouldn't stand."

"Nope, sorry. She doesn't want to deal with you anymore," Jarod said. He stepped down off the bus. "Charisma's starting to change. So if I were you? I'd be thankful she didn't simply can me all together." His eyes darted across his. "You pushed way too far, knowing how fragile she is for 'pleasing everyone'. Well, she still has Henry and Donovan while she's getting to know me and a new guy. So. Go."

He cursed once and started to walk away.

"I have wanted to do that for years," Donovan said patted Jarod's shoulder. "Good work."

"Yeah, how did you manage that?" Henry asked. "Charisma's not tough, but she never budged on Sal for anything."

Good. He was already winning Henry's favor. "Didn't Donovan tell you?"

"More than a good bodyguard," Donovan said to Henry. "He's also got some psychology licenses under his belt. If anyone could get her to let him go? It'd be him."

"Well, that was sneaky." Yet, Henry was still grinning. "She doesn't do therapy or anything anymore since the kid was born. Broots told her not to. She didn't actually accept you though, am I right?" Jarod nodded. "But you're her top tier guard. You can talk to her." He looked at Donovan. "Clever, you're brilliant! You should have told me you were doing that."

"Putting Jarod in charge of the rest of security too," Donovan spilled. Yeah, that didn't go over as well. "Already got rid of Sal. Charisma is getting bigger." Henry still didn't like it.

"Look?" Jarod chipped in to help Henry's unease. "Responsibilities and pictures of what needs to happen changes as more people become aware of someone. She has a lot of security." A lot. "But it doesn't matter how many guards you have if the security isn't at all the strategic points. I've worked with people that have had others gunning for them." _No kidding, Kyle, Christmas last year. _"I know what I'm doing."

"All this will do is scare her." Henry still didn't see it. "She's been fine. She can even go out on that stage and sing like a canary for hundreds of thousands of people." He laid his palm flat in his other hand, smacking it with each new word. "She's getting better." He put his hands back away. "Our concern for her is if she falls down or gets hurt. If someone's trying to handle her. It's _not_ expecting for an assassination. Would I take a bullet for her or Nathan? Hell yes! Will I? Probably not."

"I'm not here to make her progress harder," Jarod said. "I am here to make it easier. In fact, she will probably be able to tone down the amount of bodyguards she needs, if we can control where it's coming and going. With enough minor talks, I might even be able to move the four guard necessity down."

Henry was starting to come around. "Less? You think that's possible? Broots had that stuck in her head."

"Yeah. Strategy, not numbers," Jarod insisted. "Any recommendations for the fourth to be on this bus temporarily?"

"Charisma needs to trust them," Henry said. "They have to know about Nathan, it's not something to do fast. Outside help is hired through the internet as backup. Great references are needed. Otherwise, it's just us. I mean? The wrong person in here, it's so easy to take advantage of her trust. You can see that."

"Right. A personal connection. Then I know somebody." Smack dab in the middle of Florida. "I could give him a call, see if he answers."

"He good?" Donovan asked.

"Real good. Runs in the family," Jarod insisted. "Trust him with my life."

* * *

Jarod knocked on the door to her private room. Although the sound was softened, he could tell she was still up. Henry and Donovan were now asleep, but they would get up if they needed to. Jarod wanted her to go to bed knowing everyone on the bus, and knowing that he was also now the head of her security, second to well . . . her. She could always fire him, but it would never happen. "Just be nice."

"I'll be nice," Kyle insisted.

"I wouldn't have done this if I wasn't in a jam," Jarod warned him. "It went sideways. They didn't share top secret information until I got here."

"Being?" Kyle asked. "The kid. Never a good idea. Can't hide it that young."

"No, you can't." Jarod finally saw her answer. She looked worn out. "Sorry. I heard you were still up so I wanted you to meet the fourth for tonight."

"Pleased to meet you," she said politely to Kyle. "Mister?"

"Kyle. I don't like Mister anymore than Jarod does." He glanced in the room. "I hear there is something top secret I need to know first?"

"It's like mission control sometimes." She moved out of the way. Jarod and Kyle both moved into the room. "That's Nathan."

"Nathan." Kyle moved toward him. "Who's his father? Member of the band?"

"No," she said. "He happened . . ." She was half sleepy. "I found out I was pregnant a couple months after my memory surfaced. You've been briefed on that?"

"Everyone has. You don't know the father?" Kyle asked her again. "Interesting."

"I am Nathan," Nathan spoke to Kyle.

"Hi, Nathan. I'm Kyle." He winked at the boy. "What are you playing with?"

"Zyle." He smacked the middle chord. "Eggs. Zylephone."

"Pretty good diction, even with that one." Kyle noted looking toward Jarod. "Gonna have to move fast, Jarod. Not even two and this good?"

"Move fast on what?" Parker asked.

"Fixing your security," Jarod lied. "I've been hired to get your guards in better, strategic places, as well as to eliminate some use of them. Strategy is more important than just numbers."

"Well, that's why Donovan has been sending you everywhere," she noted. "Broots won't like it. Broots isn't here though. My guards trust in it. Okay." She looked toward Kyle. "You like children?"

"I love children. Never going to have any though." He was looking at Nathan closely. "Can you point at and name people in the room?"

Nathan looked at him closely for a second, blinking, like he was trying to think. He pointed to his mom. "Mom." He pointed to Kyle. "Kyle." He pointed to Jarod. "Jarod."

"Yes, that's everyone," Parker said, slightly uncomfortable now. "It's getting late. I have to try and get him down. He doesn't like to sleep as much. Thanks for stopping in to introduce yourself, Kyle." Still. "Have I met you before?"

Jarod pulled himself up slightly. Was she starting to remember The Centre now?

"I do," she chuckled. "I do know you. Did you ever meet a neighbor you gave dance lessons too?"

Kyle smiled. "Did you master the belly dancing?"

_Belly dancing? _What were they talking about?

She licked her top teeth. "I did. Learned more than a few moves than that." Knowing him seemed to make her feel slightly better. "Okay. I'll see you in the morning. Nathan? Bedtime." She picked him up but he was fussing. "Bedtime. We have to try and go to bed, Sweetie. Please work with me? Come on, let's try." She turned around and sat on her bed with him.

Jarod moved out of the room after Kyle. He closed the door. "Belly dancing? What are you talking about?"

"Is that really important right now?" Kyle pointed out. He motioned to take the conversation farther away from the beds. Jarod followed him out towards the front more. "You're right, she's a genius, and Nathan is a blaring red flag, The Centre will eventually show up. He doesn't even have a dad out here. She doesn't know who she conceived him with. Was it Broots?"

Jarod touched his head like that hurt. "No. I mean, he wouldn't." Right?

"Take a day off for me. You're going to be the leader, figuring out strategies. Have to be off anyhow," Kyle said. "One day. I need to take you somewhere, Jarod. It can't wait."

* * *

**Miss Parker Remembers: She apparently remembers Broots, and he had kept her tucked away safely with four guards. No time travel memories. No Centre memories. She doesn't even know who's child Nathan belongs to.  
**

**Jarod: He doesn't remember anything about time travel, but he does know that Miss Parker rescued him in 1973. He grew up with his family. The Centre still chased after him, and he still didn't have any DSA's. All he has are strange marks on his back he apparently had put there when he had his DSA's.****  
**

**Broots: He remembers the Centre and came back to it. No time travel memory.**


	28. No More Suckers, Please

**Aspen****, ****Colorado**

"What is this place?" Jarod asked. It felt familiar. Kyle drove on the side of the property and got out.

"Found it. It's real interesting, I knew you'd want to see it. It's owned by The Centre now," Kyle said, "but before that it was owned by a man named Broots. This way, Jarod."

Broots? Maybe it was something worth his attention right now. Jarod followed him on the side of the property and saw a side door. He watched Kyle jimmy it open and gesture inside. Jarod went inside and froze. "I've been here." He felt the flashbacks, the same ones he felt when he landed where his sims took place in real life. "A sim took or will take place here?"

"Feels like one, huh? Interesting." Kyle followed him inside. "Keep it quick, Jarod. Around the corner."

"There was a fridge there at one point." Jarod pointed toward the middle of the hallway they were in. A long, simple hallway. "Gone now." He pointed to the couch in the corner and some chairs. "Comfortable sitting."

"There's more than that in the next room," Kyle insisted as he opened the door.

Jarod walked into the next room and felt a sensory overload. He could feel it. Weird flashbacks. Except this time? "I met Miss Parker here?" How was that possible? He moved around the room and saw a modeling sculpture on a table. It wasn't painted but he could still see it. It was a model of Miss Parker, and then someone else holding her hand. No. It was also Miss Parker but dressed differently. Very differently. "Broots and I were involved in making a real sim?" No, that couldn't be. He heard screams in the room. Terrified. He looked around. "Blood. Screams." His heart was starting to race. "What happened?" He saw Kyle move over toward the bed and gesture to him.

Jarod moved over and saw what Kyle found. It was one of his T-shirts. Worn when he wasn't Pretending as much yet, early days. Pink Floyd's The Wall T-shirt. As soon as it hit, he bought tons of them. He knew he'd been missing one at some point. There was no way he'd ever get it back though. There was a solid slash mark through the back and it was covered in blood. Old blood. _Why would The Centre leave this behind?_

He looked around the room. "It feels like . . ." He walked backwards and forwards. "Like I spent time in this room. More than once." With Parker? "What was I doing here?"

"You used to come once a month, sometimes twice a month," Kyle said. "No idea why. You liked visiting the girl. She was locked up in this room, but she did it on purpose."

"On purpose?" Jarod asked. Interesting. "She was trying to escape The Centre." They were helping her escape The Centre. "Isolated, no one to talk to but one person." He continued to walk around, visualizing what used to be there on those empty shelves. Stacks of empty shelves. Book cases fitted together over and over, like it was trying to breathe and make room. "She did it to herself, but I felt bad for her. I knew what it was like." That must be why he had visited so often. "What happened?"

Screams. The screams. Jarod flinched his eyes. "The flashbacks are never this bad." Wait. "Did you say you knew I used to visit? Why are you showing me this only now?"

"Because, now Broots is getting flashbacks too. From far away," Kyle said. "He said the time is getting closer, Jarod. Closer to what, I don't know. _That_ one is the truth."

"He used to believe in time travel," Jarod warned his brother. "Not the best source right now. You've visited him?"

"Yes. I felt sorry for him," Kyle said. "He must fear The Centre a lot. Especially after his hands."

"He mentioned that," Jarod said. Still. Kyle visited Broots? "I didn't know what was real or not, but he was steadily jerking them back. He always wore gloves, like he was scared to have them out in the open." He got closer to the shelves, moving downward.

"Jarod. There's something you need to understand," Kyle said. "It's about Broots and Parker."

Jarod was cresting the end of the shelves to a door outside. He headed out. It was a garden area. _Fresh air at least. _Completely rounded by walls though. Walls with the strangest things written on them. He approached one in particular. "Killing Raines? She wanted me to kill Raines?"

"Jarod." Kyle followed him inside. "Flashbacks are getting worse, aren't they?"

"Before here?" Jarod nodded. "I'm remembering things and places, without being near those things or places." The fact that he even got flashbacks of the things his sims did, or would do, was always scary enough. He always had that. Being able to go somewhere and then feeling that. He even saw himself, trying to right the wrongs. He explained it to his mind as something The Centre put in there, but him being present was his will power to undo their strength on his brain.

It was a terrible explanation, but he had to buy it. Nothing else explained it.

* * *

"Charisma."

Charisma smiled as she finally saw him. He was there! "Broots!" She shifted Nathan in her hands tenderly as she reached over to hug him. "My Brooty Broots! I missed you. I'm sorry I ran away. You wanted to do so many things that would upset so many but-"

"It's time," Broots interrupted her again. "I'm sure he'll be coming." Broots walked around her dressing room.

"Who?" she asked.

"Jarod. I bet he's already here somewhere." Broots looked around. "We should head out. This is going to get tricky. Jarod and I can't get close to each other."

Charisma followed him out with Nathan. "Why are we out here? What's wrong with the new guard, Jarod Stryker?"

"Nothing." Broots smiled. "He's a great guy. It's nice to see he got rid of, um, Sal. Finally." He reached out for her hand and held it briefly. "This time, can we find a way so I don't remember? So I can have her back?"

"Have who back?" Charisma asked.

"Oh. I can't ask yet." Broots let go. "I'll give Jarod all the control back, if you just take us far enough back." He looked toward Nathan. "He was a good kid. Just like Jamie Jamison."

"Who is Jamie Jamison?" Charisma asked.

"No one. Just like Nathan will be no one." Broots looked away. "I want both of them really but I can't have them. I could never have them at the same time."

"Broots?" He wasn't making any sense at all. "Broots, what is it?" Why was he saying Nathan would be no one? Who was Jamie Jamison? Why was he obsessed about her recent guard?

"Not too close, Jarod, stay ten feet away from Broots!" Kyle's voice had yelled in the air.

Charisma turned and watched her guard. Her new guards, Jarod Stryker and Kyle. She had no idea what Kyle's last name had been. She forgot to ask.

"Why ten feet?" Jarod stared at Broots. "What are you doing here?"

"It's time to come together and do this thing again," Broots said. He gestured to his head. "Paris. 2001. Puzzle key. Remember yet?"

Jarod shook his head. He had no idea what Broots was talking about anymore than her.

"Even with the fury of The Centre, Jarod, you_ know_ those eyes weren't hers," Broots spoke to Jarod again. "It's easier to see when all the fires bled out by her pleasing personality. Even if you don't want to. The fire you saw before, it was all to please The Centre. She never bucked against it. She let The Centre do anything it wanted with her."

"What's happening?" Jarod asked him. Then, he grabbed his head. Eclipse started to play in his head.

"It was yours," Broots told Jarod as he winced. "Nathan was yours. I guess we've both seen the puzzle keys now. He was a good boy. You would have been proud. I'm sorry you didn't get to know him."

"Mine?" Jarod smacked his ear where he kept hearing the sound of Eclipse. "Nathan's mine?"

Paris. 2001. A boombox. Eclipse. Memories he couldn't have. Shouldn't have. "That's not possible. I_ can't_ remember that."

"It is," Broots said. "During the time of possible choosing. If she keeps Nathan, he'll take her power. If she doesn't, something else will happen. Just like last time in Paris. I'm sorry."

* * *

Miss Parker looked around herself. She looked at what she was wearing. What was this? She looked at Broots. "Broots?" He smiled at her. He was older. _Not again._ What had been happening? The last thing she remembered was being next to Jarod as they were dying. 1984. Looking around her, it didn't feel anywhere near 1984.

Not again. She kept her eyes out on the side, half expecting her mother to wave and talk to her, explain to her what was going on again. She held her arms out, steadying herself. No. No, it certainly wasn't Paris. She looked toward Jarod, staying far enough away as Broots. Was he bringing her memories back again? Then, she felt something at her legs. She looked down. _Oh no. _Just like Paris again. Unless she was randomly babysitting with amnesia, she had another baby. "How are ya, Kid?"

He smiled. "I am well, thank you."

Good talker for his age.

"Why do I keep having Eclipse playing loudly in my head?" Jarod complained. He was practically staring her down. "Do you know what's going on, Charisma?"

Charisma? Well, new name again. "Is there a last name to that, Jarod?"

"Oh, well, Miss Parker, that's even better." Jarod's voice became even more judgmental. "What is going on? What did The Centre do to us?!"

"Easy," Broots interrupted. "Jarod, take it easy. Give it a few minutes. No one's going anywhere." He kicked a piece of tin near him. "At least until Miss Parker figures out what she wants."

It sounded like Broots knew what was going on. She'd better pay attention to him this time. "Is it like Paris again?" He nodded. "Do you remember me telling you, or do you remember Paris?"

"I remember," Broots said sourly. "I remember it all." He gestured to the little boy in front of her. "That one isn't mine this time at least. I didn't make the same mistake _again_. Good for me." He gave her a sad smile. "It's been almost fifteen years since Aspen, Charity."

Like she thought, except it wasn't Broots' child this time. Jarod didn't remember a thing though, she could tell that clearly. Then what? "Could you tell me what happened, Broots?" She had to ask.

"I was too late. I tried to prevent him." He gestured to the little boy again. "Anyway, back to 1984. SL4. You wanted to escape. It didn't change the year or the time. It changed _you_. You went back to working for The Centre. Went back to all the training. I got you out in 97' finally." He gestured toward Jarod. "He's got a much better life now though."

"Better life?" Jarod was still wincing. "Better? Life? I couldn't remember! I still!" He banged his head. The memories were hitting, but in so many different orders. He couldn't comprehend it yet. He couldn't understand it. "Snow. Snow. Window. Paris. Boombox. Miami. Hotel. Raines. Family home. I." He started to wobble, but Kyle came over to hang onto him.

"Oh yeah," Broots added. "I still stayed near The Centre. I was basically your only key. You chased and ran after Jarod, so his memory is completely gone. He's been separated from you since you fell into SL4 obviously," Broots said. "He finally came back. And, of course, there's another decision waiting."

Same thing. Without her mom this time. "Who am I?" She asked Broots. "I went back to work for The Centre? How?"

"Meager pay. Barely had enough for rent. You did all your training all over again. Tried to make Raines as happy as you could. Lived near your brother constantly," Broots said. "I had to be there too, to be near you." He gestured around them. "When I broke you free, all your memories were gone. Miss Parker and Charity, you remembered nothing. I unlocked you but I couldn't pull you out of SL4. Just like Paris. I had to start all over, but your creative spirit couldn't be stopped. Now? Your in the middle of a band tour across America."

Band tour? "How could I be in the public spotlight, Broots?!" He touched his nose. She touched hers in return. It felt a little different. Wait.

"You did it. Your band members wanted it, but your guards wanted you safe, and I_ hated_ the idea, so you snuck out and got it done," Broots said in his defense. "At first it was just pleasing The Centre, but when you didn't remember it all again, the SL4, it was as bad as Paris. I'm sorry. I'm_ not_ Jarod, I couldn't restore memories. I only make you forget."

"I had plastic surgery, and I am in some kind of stupid rock band, in the middle of America, touring with a kid?" Geez. It was Paris all over again. She_ definitely_ didn't belong there.

* * *

Jarod hung onto Kyle as he started to remember again. Ten years. The ten years with Parker also involved him. In Broots home. "My work?" He was starting to snap back. "Kyle, my work?"

"I never found it," Kyle admitted. "I did what I could find, but I couldn't do much. I'm sorry, Jarod. At least you remember again."

Jarod pulled himself up. He looked toward Parker who looked terrible. "I remember a time in Paris. This happened, with Broots kid." He looked at the kid, then back at Broots. Broots shook his head at him. Okay, it wasn't Broots. "Whose is it?"

"I pulled her out because Raines was experimenting on making a new pretender." Broots shuffled. "Sorry, Jarod."

Jarod's eyes widened. He looked at the boy Nathan. Genius. Obvious. "They made a clone, why not? Well, not this time around because I stopped them. Guess that pissed them off!" He should be easy, but a son? He didn't even know about it?

"Calm down," Broots said to him. "Nathan's only a glimpse of what could happen. Do you think Miss Parker's going to stay here when she's been in SL4? Not likely. Fussing over nothing. She didn't stay in Paris where she had her mother _and_ a perfect life. Why would she stay where she's gone through plastic surgery and tours in a rock band?"

Nathan. His. Boy. Unborn. It was all so fast, Jarod didn't even know how to feel about it. He'd barely known him. Then again, Broots had got to know his son. Even from the stance Broots was in, he remembered Paris too. It wouldn't be around for long. Nathan was patting his hands on the ground, strategically seeing where the rocks and pebbles were at verses where it was nice and soft. Little explorer.

Jarod looked back at Kyle.

"I don't understand, did The Centre give it to her?" Kyle asked him. "Why is Broots saying that?"

He was out of the loop for once. It didn't make Jarod feel any better. "After Aspen, The Centre took her. It was too hard to deal with, and she went into what's called SL4. She hasn't been Miss Parker in fifteen years." Even the cold-blooded Centre version. Stayed and worshipped The Centre when she couldn't afford milk. "After Broots unlocked her, she went from pleasing The Centre to anyone around her. But he had to, because I didn't remember. I couldn't help." He stared at the boy again. "But he had to do something because that . . . boy was coming."

"So you're a dad," Kyle said. "Sorry."

"Don't be." He wouldn't be for long. He'd be unborn. Jarod took a deep breath. Okay. _It wasn't meant to be. _He wouldn't even remember anyhow. Once Parker figured out what she needed to do. She didn't have her mother this time. Jarod mostly just stared ahead. So many memories he should not have. It hurt. Was this what Parker always felt pulsing in her head? _Puzzle key. _No wonder she never told him and only Broots. Nathan. Possible future?

Unlikely. He looked back at Parker. "Can you get back?" He wasn't going to get a choice anyway. Her mind would find its way and then all the treasured memories he'd made with his family would be gone. He'd start back to however she proceeded. How would she proceed?

"I don't want this, but I don't want to move." She touched her head. "I'm tired of moving! I'm tired of my life being nothing but a game that I wake up to." She was breathing heavily. "No more tasting the suckers, _please_."

Jarod saw the agony in her face. Apparently, it wasn't going to be an easy move for her. How did she do it?

"Find something. Find something." She closed her eyes, but she looked drained. Tired. Like she was tired of even the act of living anymore. She wiped the sweat from her face and the tears from her eyes. The hard Miss Parker of days past. To the time before, where he lost everyone. Even Kyle was killed. Everything, all the times. That vigor of her? It was gone.

"If you can?" Broots said near her. "Debbie, please remind me of how important-"

"I'm not a genie!" she yelled at him. "Okay, I don't pick and choose who I want or what I want!" She grabbed at her own head as she backed away from Nathan. "If I did, my mother would be here, don't you think so?!" She almost wanted to scream. "Okay. Calm down, Parker." She tried to soothe herself. "It'll all be one bad memory that'll disappear again. Another thirty years. Again. And again." She rolled her eyes. "I need. I need something, different, something to grasp onto before it happened." She started to walk around again. The caring holding of taking Nathan wasn't there anymore. She didn't feel like its mother the same way anymore.

A part of that hurt Jarod. He was beginning to realize how hurt Broots had felt too in Paris. _Shouldn't be here. Forget it. If he's meant to be, he'll be. Just help her. _"What do you need to do, Parker?"

"Tactile. Something different but I was in the same place for six years. I? I don't know what to go for. I can't do suckers again, I can't do another thirty, I can't, I just can't. Please no, I can't!"

Jarod stayed quiet. He had no idea how to help. Maybe he didn't want to. That time, was _his_ time. He lived it. Maybe she didn't, but _he _did. All those memories with his family. All the people he struggled to help with the tattoos on his back? Everything would just be erased through time.

Then again, admit it or not. There were several thousands of people he couldn't save because he didn't remember. All because his dad threw his DSA's away when he was a teenager. They would all get a second chance. He could make it right by them. Still? The memories would not carry over.

He looked toward Kyle. The future was never a sure thing. He remembered the time his brother died. Arizona. He used his own heart to save a dying boy. Whatever happened to that boy? Did he live on and find someone, or did he die without Kyle's heart? So much change. His mom. Ethan. Sydney's years with his boys. Hopefully, if she got it right, they would all still have good futures. Please let there be good futures. "They were in the back of the soda machine," he said to Kyle. "I wanted to make sure no one ever found my papers." Apparently, that meant his brother too. He could tell Parker where they were, but Broots had already gotten yelled at. Her mind was searching for a moment. For the moment that would take everything away.

* * *

The greatest stimulation. Parker knew it, but it wasn't what she could choose. Jarod holding her as they changed her. She couldn't, that position did nothing for her. But that time, being notified about her father's death. It had to be that day. _Come on. Conversations. What did I eat? What did I do? _She knew the answer to all of them, it was the night her whole life changed again. Going back so far again. She hated it. Reliving her childhood over and over wasn't fun. Not only that, Broots was right. She couldn't hide the fact The Centre probably used her for their own gain. That kid had to have been Jarod's. _Damn Raines. _He never quit.

The feel of the Sculpey in her hands. The grey form, coloring not being out yet. Jarod right next to her, mostly quiet, just working away. Visually all iffy though. Jarod often worked with her when he stopped by. Anyhow. _Find something. _Something unique to that night. Jarod writing. Broots interrupting. Nothing new. _I need something, I need to grasp onto something. That's my closest breaking point, please don't take me back to childhood again. _She didn't want to restart from a younger age and relive it all again. She didn't want to! She'd already done it more than once. The reliving it all. Just back up a little bit, that's all. Just back up. To something. _Just fifteen years, please! Find something. _She'd never done it before. Every time she had to go back to when she first arrived, to undo the harm. If she could find something though, along her timeline. Something unique, something just one day- _Slapstick! _"I remember this feeling." She recited what she said. _Got it. _She closed her eyes. _Please let this work. _The feel of it around her wrist. Her slapstick bracelet. Jarod got tiger print orange, and she had tiger print pink. He held her hand, and she felt some of his slapstick gracing her hand. Unique. One of a kind sensation she lost right after that night. It was light, but nostalgic. A feeling like no other, the bent metal playfully slapping around her wrist.

_"It does have a strange feel to it. I've been getting used to it," Jarod said. He took her hand in his. "One day, I really hope you trust me enough to tell me why you're incarcerating yourself."_

* * *

**Miss Parker Remembers: She apparently remembers Broots, and he had kept her tucked away safely with four guards. No time travel memories. No Centre memories. Until it all comes down, the finale. When Broots arrives (memories intact including the Paris memories he was forbidden to have except in an emergency) and Jarod (same thing as Broots, although he takes a little more time to remember.) Miss Parker can't remember what happened after Aspen, she didn't live harmoniously with her other self again. She now had Jarod's child, was a rockstar, and she couldn't stay either.  
**

**Miss Parker isn't as calm and collected as she used to be. She doesn't want to repeat again. This Miss Parker now remembers Paris, Broots getting shot, killing Raines, and all the other in between moments something went wrong and she had to go back. She doesn't want to go all the way back again. She does remember the stimulation of the slapstick bracelet and since it was in her timeline's past, she used it to travel back in time.**

**Jarod: He doesn't remember anything about time travel. Even with Kyle, it's hard to believe but when he remembers Paris and the time he spent in the hotel and so many other memories, he regained it. He remembered Paris even because it was an emergency. The only time he would be allowed to remember.****  
**

**Broots: Once he remembered, he went straight to her. A little bitter toward Jarod, remembering Paris due to the emergency triggered memory, he is there for Miss Parker.  
**


	29. Jarod's Partner

**1984**

It was always jarring at first, but this time? It was _beyond_. It wasn't a memory disruption, she knew it this time. She arrived at the _**exact moment**_ she wanted too. _The Centre will be here soon if they aren't already. _Change the path, quickly. "I'm. Not." That would lead them nowhere. Not the same dialogue, The Centre was going to be there! _What do I do?_

"Miss Parker?" Jarod waved in front of her face. "Are you okay?"

"Today is that one day," she agreed. "Let's go, Jarod." Shocked? Absolutely. "I had to redo again." She swallowed. It was partly right. Partly right, but not the whole truth. She wasn't just recalling memories. She literally just moved herself. There was a huge difference. "We have to go, now, it's coming, and I don't want . . ."

That was all she had to say. Jarod picked up that something was wrong. He quickly helped her up and they went to the side door. They weren't even going to bother with Broots yet. "How long from now?"

"Fifteen minutes, twenty minutes max." They could already be there. "Kyle's around." After saying that, Jarod quickly called his brother, letting him know what was going on.

"We'll risk it, if it doesn't work, he'll be here." Jarod kept walking with her to the side door. "Just stay close. You haven't fought in a long time."

_That's what you think. _They both came out the door and made for his car. They got in, he started it and they got out quickly. Once they were safely on the road, Jarod called Broots, warning him to get out. Broots wanted to talk about it, but there was no time. Jarod moved as fast as he could. It was later at night, a little easily to dodge and get away than in the middle of the day.

Meanwhile, she just breathed, feeling so faint. She couldn't believe that she found a tactile enough experience to pull her through it. No mom's help. She looked at the bracelet on her hand. _You saved me so many wasted years. Thank you. _She felt Jarod's hand grip hers.

"It's okay, we made it out," Jarod said. "You don't look so good at all. How bad of a future was it?"

She just squeezed his hand. "I'm sorry." Before it went away. If it went away. It felt so realistic, so in that time just now. "Broots is tortured by Lyle." Harder. It wasn't like a memory she just forgot, she couldn't splurge it all out like she used to. "H-his fingers were, um, c-cut off one by one. Y . . ." She felt like choking. "You run back, get stabbed in the back!" While holding her. "Centre. Brainwashing." Come on, she had to keep it together. "Broots loses his memories and you do too. So do I. You have your family, but you didn't get all your DSA information. You search for it, and the missing ten years of my life I can't remember." Then? "Raines knows of course that I'm the heart, and you're a key. He uses the reserves."

"Reserves?" Jarod asked. "What reserves?"

"The puzzle key! It's what the key and heart make together, that eventually inherits the gift of travel," she said. She did promise and he deserved to know now. "It's a baby. The universe apparently only lets a heart have it with her keys. Slam dunk."

"Huh?" His interest peaked. "What, you mean you were?" He kept driving. "The Centre?"

"I couldn't, Jarod! I was . . . I'm sorry. I'm so sorry!" she admitted. "It was no different than Paris. I couldn't stay." _But it is different. It was so different._

* * *

"No. It's fine," Jarod insisted. He could see how much turmoil she was in. Her eyes. Her movements. She looked downright neurotic. Her mind? It couldn't do this much longer. He had to make her feel better. "Not meant to be. Never born." He sighed. "Weird feeling really. I'm alright though, don't worry. I'm glad you came back." He looked toward her and smiled. "I'll take care of you from now on, I promise. No worries."

"Life. Without Broots." She had stayed so long with him. Ever since she was fourteen and he stole her away in a car. That leisurely feeling of being able to forget. To just live. Even when she had to come back here, Broots was always there. Even though Jarod barely got along with him, a rivalry instinct that happened between them being keys? He knew that coming back with him and not with Broots wasn't going to be easy. "It's like leaving home."

That statement though. Rain was starting to pour down outside over Jarod's Charger. Home. Something he would never feel like for her. He looked over toward her. She was in terrible shape. _Broots. Maybe. _Maybe after all that time, Broots managed to make her fall for him after all? Then, she said something that changed his mind about that all together. Something that would have left Broots speechless.

"He felt like a true brother."

Broots. Broots wasn't just friendzoned, he was family bound. A small smile crept up on Jarod's face. "Everyone grows up and has to leave home," Jarod told her, "but don't worry. It won't be like before. I was too young, I was taking everything lightly. My mind wasn't in the right state. It just kept thinking about how to make everything perfect for me, but not really focusing on the long term. I_ should_ have focused better. No getting lost, no homelessness, no abductions, I promise. Not this time."

She just let out a slight sigh, like she really didn't believe him. "We can only hope, Jarod."

"No. No abductions, from anybody!" He drove faster. She had to believe him. "You didn't trust me as your key, because I didn't understand what I should have been doing. Dropping you off with Argyle's family wasn't what I should have done. Just leaving you at the hotel to wait for Sydney, that isn't what I should have done." He gripped the wheel tighter. "I ran to my family and I left you. As much as I loved them, and I wanted to be with them? I shouldn't have been with them. If it was dangerous to take you, then I should have stayed with _you_."

"Now you're just talking nonsense. That's _my_ job," she tried to tease him. Yet, it wasn't reaching her eyes. She still looked like she was melting inside. "You were supposed to go with your family, you did the right thing."

"Wrong, I was your key," he said. "I should have stayed with you. I had two shots with you, Miss Parker. Two! The first time I dropped you off at Argyle's home. After that, I should have . . ." He hit his steering wheel. "I should have stayed awake. Been vigilant. Told Sydney to take Angelo, sneak you out to a better place for a real shower. To relax and recuperate. Then I should have snuck you into a dentist's office and taken care of your teeth immediately. There won't be a third, I will never mess up a third time, I promise."

Ooh. She touched her mouth instinctively. The year of no teeth brushing. He never even brought that up before. He hated to, but she should understand him fully.

"Sorry. No, I didn't mean to make you feel bad," Jarod apologized. "The last thing I ever want is for you to feel bad. I just need you to understand it."

"What about Broots?" She asked softly. "He'll forget. Without me near, he'll forget. I won't be jingling keys."

"We'll make sure he's okay," Jarod promised. "Really, Miss Parker. No more worries, just relax." He looked over at her. Her whole body looked so out of it. She even smacked her head against the side door glass. Jarod knew that all of the memories and the time switching had to be tough on her, but she looked much worse this time. Maybe there was a limit as to how often her mind should do that? "No more going back," Jarod told her. "Don't, ever again. No matter what happens in the future. I can tell, your mind is roasted, Miss Parker. One more trip, and you might lose your mind for good."

"I can't promise that," she answered. "If things get bad, I have to." She looked toward Jarod. "Broots is alone now. He stayed alone. Time meddles with the future. He never gets Debbie, Jarod."

"Yeah." Jarod already guessed that. "It's okay."

"No, it's not. He wants her back sooo bad. I took away his entire world when I followed momma's advice."

"And you gave me a chance to have mine," Jarod reminded her. "My brother didn't die in front of me, twice. Ethan didn't grow up in The Centre. I know my sister. I know my dad. I got to be with my mom too, she's still alive and we still make memories. I can always make memories." He smiled. "It's a paradise."

"You didn't think so," she uttered. "You couldn't save anyone. Your tattoos are too general. I'm sure a lot of the people you saved before never were saved."

"But I had my family?"

"Yeah."

"Well? I have my work," Jarod said. "Not on me right now, but I have you now. That's all I need." He tried to hold her hand again, but she refused to grab it.

"I essentially killed Debbie. I killed the little boy of Broots, and I killed your little boy," she told Jarod. "I go back in time, everything changes, and no one is born."

"Okay. We can't have everything," Jarod settled on. "Life goes on. I'm happy with what I've been given. Don't think about my regrets, I'm sure the future me understood." Again. "I repeat. Whatever happens? I'm happy. I _was_ happy too, if anything happens that ends my life. I was happy, and you shouldn't change anything else."

"You mean if someone shoots you like they did Broots, I shouldn't go back and dabble?" She asked. "Really."

"Really. I don't think you can keep this up," Jarod said. "Don't risk your sanity for my life. Don't risk your sanity for Broots' life. You've done_ enough_, just be Miss Parker. Be you."

"And if a puzzle key comes around again?"

She just didn't understand, he could see how dangerous it had all been for her now. "Just live a normal life. Try not to worry about that. Well? As much as you can with me," he chuckled. "Please?"

"No more correcting time?" She finally consented with a nod of her head. "I'll live my life however it ends then, huh?"

"Yes, and this time, I won't mess up." He playfully knocked her on her shoulder. "I will not mess up. We can be brother and sister when you come with me on pretends. Like we were as kids when we worked on our pizzas."

"I drove you nuts."

"Yeah, but I wasn't in The Centre. So it was a good kind of nuts," Jarod laughed. "No more Centre will catch up to us. I'll keep several feet back." Still though. Everything in her. Shouting, screaming like a warning sign. "Are you okay?"

"When I woke up out of the SL4 in the future, I was in a rock band touring America."

Jarod laughed at the lame joke, happy she was trying to regain her humor back. But? "You're not kidding?" A rock band? "The Centre would have found you."

"I had plastic surgery."

Oh. Still? "A rock band?"

"When things get tough, I reach for what I know. I never remember through time, but I reach for my art. It stays with me, the lessons and the experience of it. Subconsciously, I retain it. It's all I _have_. It gets me through it all." She looked back at him. "Think of all the hell I must have gone through. Even in SL4, I reached for art. The more I reach for it? I just know, the more hell I'm in."

"Its how you express yourself, get through the hard times, I understand," Jarod said. It was her talent, it was what she learned as a skill when she was smaller. She could have learned so much more, but Broots pushed the arts so he could work with her easier. No schooling or doctorates to submit. Just, art. "I . . . I can get you some supplies, but, out on the road staying out of The Centre's way? I can't really take anything with us."

"I don't care. I don't need to take it. I don't need to keep it." She traced the glass on the window. "I just need to make it."

"Okay. If you can create and leave behind, then I'll get you whatever you need," Jarod promised. "I can do what Broots did a little. Money through knowing the future isn't hard." He would never make her feel like she could hardly make it again. Never again. Her broken zippered jacket and that telephone call from long ago entered into his mind. "Never again."

"When I finally die through it all, I'll probably be right in front of a canvas. I can almost see myself falling in front of a canvas right before it all ends. I'll burn myself with my own art. It's all I'll have. I'll drown in it."

"No, that won't happen!" Jarod said more roughly. "You aren't going to do that anymore. No going back in time, no correcting anything. No matter what."

"What if Kyle dies?" She asked him. "What if your mom dies? Hm?"

"No regrets." It hurt to think about that. He sure as hell didn't want to see Kyle die a third time. He never wanted to lose his mom. "You trying to bring them back to life, it could kill your mind. You don't get it, I can see how bad it is, Parker." He rubbed her shoulder. "Your eyes are blaring it across like a warning sign. No more time travel. I don't care if my whole family and I die, and Broots dies, and the whole world starts to burn in a great big ball. You can't _handle_ one more go."

"I'm tough stuff," she said.

_You're glazed over doughnuts with a cream filling right now._ Jarod couldn't be fooled. "Your heart is tough. Your mind is at the verge of losing everything you are. Promise me, Parker. Here and now." She didn't though. "Miss Parker."

"If I can avoid having a puzzle key in SL4?" Miss Parker asked. "Then I think._ Maybe_."

Jarod reached behind him and pulled out a glass coke. He shook it at her gently. "There's a coke in it for you?"

She smiled and grabbed the coke. "Okay. _If_ I can avoid it, I promise to, after you open that."

Ah. There was that smile again. He grabbed his opener and easily opened it while driving, then he gave it back to her. It was a done deal.

No matter what happened, this was now the course the future would take.

* * *

_Decent hotel. _Jarod wasn't going for anything by the hour. She was finally out of that house. Away from Broots. He wasn't going to mess this up. _There. _He pulled into a nice hotel. He got out and she followed suit. He went to check in. It was a much different ballgame than it used to be last time he was taking care of her. He was far from a minor, now 23. He'd have no problem bringing her in with him either.

It was late by the time they had got to their room. It was late by the time they left Broots' place. "TV is always a plus," Jarod said when they walked in. "Not that I really want that right now."

"Just bed," Miss Parker said as she went to the bed on the right. She slid into the sheets. "Don't bug me unless you have to wake me up."

Ah, her cheery older self seemed back again. "We can sleep for as long as you need tomorrow," Jarod answered her as he climbed in on the other bed. "Especially since you'll be switching keys again." That wasn't going to be easy on her already poor head. Yet, she didn't seem concerned about that at all. Strange.

"I just traveled back like fifteen years. I don't think it can get more messed up, Jarod."

Oh yeah. Time travel, it must have counted on her head too. Jarod didn't know that, but then again, he didn't know all of the back and forth's Miss Parker had known. "Good night, Miss Parker."

"Night, Jarod."

"The morning will be better," Jarod insisted. "I'll be sure to get us some decent food for breakfast." Not much of a response. Still, it didn't matter. She might not be feeling the best, but she would get better. It was his chance to take care of her again without Broots. No more cut off time. No more 'only so close'. Jarod reached for his bag he sat next to the bed and picked up the paper he had stuffed inside. He smiled as he looked at the list of questions and answers he used to write to himself. _Not anymore. _No more questions and answers for him. All he needed to know was right beside him in the other bed.

"Jarod? What am I doing here?" He heard from the other bed.

Oh good. SL3 was gone for now. She didn't remember the deep time travel anymore. She didn't need to. "Living, Miss Paker." Living.

* * *

**Six Months Later.**

Jarod marched almost proudly to his side of the Dodge Charger as he sat down inside of it. Miss Charity was drawing a bottle of coke.

"Well, you look happy Mister Sunshine," she noted to him. "Save someone else?"

"Got him." Jarod closed his car door. "We should celebrate, let's go get some ice cream." He reached to the dash and slapped on his slapstick bracelet and a pair of his shades and smiled at her. "My treat?"

"Everything better be your treat," she said. Then, she gave him a slight smile. "You're slapping on your old bracelet? You are having a good day."

"Last time I was here, I had no clue what I was looking for. I just knew names and figures," Jarod said. "Now I got the damn doctor out that would have injured a boy named Michael Bailey. When he comes in the future, he'll be just fine." Add to that her disturbing art piece. Since Miss C. had to do art, but didn't have to take it? This time around, he usually left pieces of her own art along with a red notebook. Her way of contributing to helping others as well. He'd let her know about the case and as they arrived and were there in the pretend, she worked steadily on her art. It was usually ready to leave behind. Something more than article pieces in a red notebook. It seemed to bring an even better touch of humanity to it all.

Miss C. sat her drawing down. "Jarod, you've got to buy another car one day. They make better cars now. It's 1985."

"Nothing beats my Dodge Charger," Jarod complained. "Me and her been up and down through everything, haven't we, Girl?" He patted its dashboard. "Besides, I'm innovative. I've got everything we need already fixed in here."

"No cup holders."

"Not the biggest thing in the world to buy a car just for cupholders," he said. He wasn't getting rid of his baby for that. The Charger was his. In his last timeline where he didn't have his family, he couldn't really keep his car. He traveled by flight, by boat, by rental, by anything. This time around, he was never frantic to reach somewhere. He coasted, rode from place to place he felt compelled to go. It was even easier with his old memory intact now. He broke out his tape of Footloose and drove off to the nearest ice cream place.

* * *

**Drive-In**

Always the perfect place and food to boot. Jarod took the food off the tray and handed some to her. For a brief second, he remembered when she wouldn't be caught dead eating food like that. That Miss Parker. So long ago. This Miss Parker wasn't Charity or Miss Parker. With the combination of her memories and Charity's past always in her head instead of partly, she grew into her new self. She grew into the self she probably should have always been. She went by Miss C. for pretends, or Miss Charity. A combination of both lives, now whole.

She started rough with a small smack of sass, and then ended gentle with a teasing smile. That was his Miss C. Jarod had no idea what the future that she'd seen as a rock band person was, but he just knew that Jarod must have never seen this side of her. That Jarod had a guaranteed future, and apparently a kid somehow. But. _I wouldn't trade it for anything. _Besides? Who knew. The little boy? Maybe he was the future. Maybe. "You look prettier today, Miss Charity."

"Sure I do," Miss Charity said as she swallowed a bit of her burger. "Its new makeup called Grease Du Jour." She chuckled. "Thanks."

Bit of snap for flavor, ending on subtlety. Jarod bent over the window and grabbed the rest of the food. The waitress would come and collect it soon. "So how's it feel to be a hero once again?" he asked her. "I do all the work, but you still get the credit."

"The laziest hero on the planet. I do nothing but hang around to save the day," she joked. "Getting something for nothing isn't too bad of a thing." She bit into her burger again. "Did you steal my fries?"

Jarod looked at the food. The fries were missing. He picked up his and gave them to her. "Here you go. You deserve it."

"The hero's reward. Awesome." Miss C. took the fries. "Seriously, Jarod, you want to split? Not your fault they messed up the order."

"Nah," Jarod said as his phone began to ring. He answered it. "Kyle, is it important? I'm in the middle of a date."

"Nuh uh," Miss C. corrected him. "We aren't calling Drive-In food a date, Jarod."

Jarod chuckled at her before paying attention back to the phone. "Oh. Really? Um." Jarod looked toward Miss C. "My mom wants you to come over."

"I'm supposed to meet your mom?" Oof. She looked nervous now. "Why does she want to meet me?"

"Uh, let's see? You did free me of The Centre which gave her back all her boys, their childhood, and a life in the process," Jarod pointed out. His mom had wanted to meet her for a very long time, but she couldn't with her being all the way in Aspen. Afterwards, Jarod warned her not to push because Miss C's mind was unstable at first from the transition. It had been going on six months though and . . . "Come meet me mom, Miss Charity. She's wanted to see you for a long time."

"It could be painful." She ate another fry. "She probably wants to talk about my mom and time travel. I don't want to think about it." She shook her head and rubbed at her eyes. "Allergies."

No, not allergies. Jarod knew that. She wasn't the tough as rock woman she'd once been so long ago. Been through too much life. Same reason he never wanted her messing with time travel again. "I'll tell her not to talk about certain things. I think she really just wants to meet you. Please?" It wouldn't be right away. They were a long way from New York. All the way out in California and he didn't like to fly. He didn't like leaving his car. It had his tapes and blankets and trinkets. It was his version of home on the go. It even always had a companion now that it should have always had next to him. "New York's pretty far. We could just start driving toward that way, and see where we end up?"

"It's awkward." She looked at what was left of her burger and back at him. "I don't know what to call myself to her. What to say."

"You're Miss Charity. You stay near me so I can save the day," Jarod said. He watched her eyes. "I want you to meet them too."

"I don't need anyone's approval," she said. "I've got a lot in our timelines, Jarod. It can get kind of heavy sometimes. Going from hunting you and leaving you in The Centre, to staying and helping you in another. It's all twisted."

"I've been there for the twists," Jarod noted. "They all helped you become who you are today." Especially Broots' interference. Love him or hate him, he couldn't deny that. Miss Charity was a much better person because she'd grown up with him. She was now in a new phase in her life though. She was leaving the nest, able to handle all the pain of her memories, yet strive to find herself too.

"If I visit your mom, then we are visiting Broots," she said out of the blue.

Oh! Jarod winced. He knew that was coming.

"He's like my brother. I haven't seen him in so long."

"You called him last week." It's a good thing he was like a brother to her, because that sentiment wasn't reciprocal. "How about this? We'll start heading out toward New York. You can decide if you want to see them or not. Then if you decide to, we can stay for a couple of days? Then, we'll go to Florida to see Broots. We can even go see Kyle. They live in the same area." Ha. That was tempting for her.

"Ooh." She had spent many years in Florida. "We'll start traveling out that way. Then we'll see Broots and your brother. Then I'll decide," she said. She was playing hardball. Jarod almost opposed her but then she said. "When we go to Florida though, I need a new bathing suit, there's no way I'm leaving without hitting the beach."

"You bet. You don't even need to wait for Florida." Straddling the line. "Two piece this time?"

"Eyes up here," Miss C. warned him. Then, she smirked. "Maybe."

Oh! They were already so close to water. They weren't far enough into California for the beaches though. "Okay." Yeah, he had to agree. Whether she saw his family or not, it would be nicer to see his brother again. Plus? Miss Charity. Two piece bathing suit. It wasn't the worst thing in the world.

* * *

**Miss Parker Remembers: The original time of the 90's and going back in time to 1973. She remembers Paris, Broots being shot, but most of all? She remembers everything vividly traveling back from 1997. It's started to really hurt her mind. When she promises to try to not time travel again, she makes it this time once she stops with the jingling keys and stays with Jarod. Her and Jarod now travel and spend their days correcting his pretends and making art.**

**Jarod: The original time of the 90's and going back in time to 1973. He shared her with Broots for many years, but now he rides with her by his side.**

**Broots: His memory of time travel is now gone. He doesn't know Miss Parker or Jarod.**


	30. Jarod's Wife

**Florida****: Two Weeks Later**

Jarod watched Miss C. run up and hug Broots. Broots hugged for a second and immediately stepped back. _Good, still rather smart._

"Are you dating her yet?"

Jarod looked beside him at Kyle. "No. It's complicated."

"She time travels, I imagine it will always be complicated." Kyle knocked a beach ball at him. "Make a move."

"No," Jarod refused. "She's still getting over some things."

"Well?" Kyle started to stand up. He dusted the sand off of him. "I'll go ask her out."

"Kyle!" Jarod grabbed his legs and tripped him. "Don't even think about it!"

Kyle just started to laugh at him. "Geez, Man, it was a joke! She doesn't live anywhere near Florida. She lives with you. I just wanted to see what you'd do. Chill out."

Jarod let go of him.

"Hey, you got a slapstick too? I just got mine," Kyle admitted. "They are kind of cool." He sat back down again.

"Oh, I did months ago." Jarod reached for a pop from the cooler. "Got one for Miss C. too."

"Yeah, I saw it dangling on her arm like a wedding ring."

"Kyle!"

"Just kidding, big brother." Kyle stopped teasing him. "Nah, you're young. I get it. You screw up, she'll back off then no more easy breezy saving people again. Don't let her move too far in the friend direction though." Kyle grabbed his own pop. "You'll end up like her 'favorite brother' over there."

"I know better," Jarod said. "How's mom and dad doing?"

"They want to see your Miss," Kyle said. "Mom really wants to meet her. I don't blame her. From what you said, she is the only person out there on the face of the Earth that can change time. Pretty cool."

"Heavy price to pay though," Jarod said, "and it doesn't matter anymore. I made her promise not to do it ever again. Even if it saves me or Broots. Last time she did it? Kyle. She was a train wreck. If she does it again, she might lose her mind forever."

"So no more fun jaunts through time?" Kyle asked him.

"I don't think she ever found them fun." Jarod answered. "She's happier when she finds_ her_ place in time." He looked toward her playing with a beach ball with Broots. "Most of the time out on the road, she's pretty happy with me. I know she was pretty good with Broots too, but I'm glad she can remember everything, and_ still_ be happy with me. I hope that never changes."

"I'll drink to that for you, Jarod," Kyle said as he took a drink of his soda. "What about you though? Do you ever wish you could just forget? That you had your DSA's and could save people without remembering?"

Without remembering. "I thought so," Jarod said. "Several times. Most of my life I still ended up living in the dark, it was only when I was with her that I could remember after we escaped." He shook his head. "Memories that happened, it makes me take less for granted."

"We were kids in The Centre," Kyle said. "We never took anything for granted."

"More than that," Jarod said. He moved his hand through the particles of sand as he heard Miss Charity laughing as she played beach ball with Broots. "I don't ever want to go back and relive it, but it wasn't all bad. There was a lot of good in it too." Different people he saved. Different people he met. Different moments. Different circumstances.

Jarod got hit in the head with a beach ball. He looked over and saw Miss Charity. He looked behind him and saw Kyle leering even farther looking at her. Then he just grinned at him, clearly laughing inside. "Shut up."

"I didn't even say anything," Kyle answered as he stood up. He dusted the sand off himself while Miss Charity came over. "Hey, MC. Having a fun time?"

"It's Miss C. or Miss Charity," Jarod reminded him. He watched Broots come over as close as he could. "Mister Broots." They had stuck around long enough, Broots remembered him. "Hello, Brother. How are you?" That bugged him to no end. Still, Jarod wasn't being mean. It was tough to be nice between keys, their instinct really was to want to fight. There was no reason to though. Broots understood that Miss Charity was safer with him. He wasn't going to take her away. Not again. "Do you enjoy the wrong number that calls you up every once in awhile?"

Broots gave a light nod. "I just like to think of her as the mysterious woman I met one time." He shrugged. "I usually act like I know her, so I don't look bad."

Jarod kept back his smile. Barely. That was Broots right there. The Broots that he knew from the other time. At first, he'd been so at odds with him, he didn't really care about what Miss Parker said about his loss. Jarod had experienced his own, he didn't need to feel empathy for Broots when he stole her so many years ago. But? As nice as life seemed for him, Jarod could see it. Out of the corner of his eye. Loneliness. He missed his daughter Debbie. Nothing in the world could really make him match his ex-wife and have their daughter the same way. Even if he tried to. Maybe it was another reason he did try to be nice to him. Fate didn't have to control who he could or couldn't be friends with, not anymore. Just like he convinced Miss Charity to live her life and forget the traveling, he tried to remember it too. Just live it.

Just live life.

* * *

**Twelve Months Later . . .**

Jarod played a card game on top of the Dodge Charger with Miss Charity. He glanced at her slightly. "We've been invited for Christmas to my families home." Keyword, we.

"We just went for Thanksgiving." She set down her own card. "If we do, then don't go across America again yet. I'm sure there's someone around here we could barge in and help."

Jarod put his card down. _Come on, Jarod. _"I don't mind. Christmas is nice to spend with family. Maybe before then though, we could spend time with each other?"

She just gave him a funny look as she set her card down. "All we ever do is spend time with each other, Boy Genius."

"I mean. Maybe I should take you to New York a little bit earlier, to see the Christmas lights?" He said softly. "Go to a nice restaurant, and then a nice hotel room. With?" He shrugged. "One bed?"

Her eyes shot up toward him. She looked down at the card game and then back at him. She looked out from the hood of the car.

"I know you have a lot of things you feel guilty, ashamed of, and that you regret," Jarod added to it now. "None of those things have changed the way I feel. Not now. And. They didn't before either. Miss Parker."

She looked back toward him at the mention of her old name. She still didn't say anything. "Bad. Bad idea, Jarod." She put down her cards. "If we . . . if it doesn't work, we still have to . . ."

Stay with each other. Yeah. It was the reason he'd waited so long to ask. "Life isn't worth anything if we don't take some risk. We know that quite well. Don't we?" He reached down for her hand and put down his cards. "Miss Charity Parker? Will you consider being my girlfriend?"

"Oh, gaw, do you have to be so gentlemanly about it?" She touched her head.

"The question is up in the air, I can't pull it back away," Jarod said. "Whether you say yes or no, this is set. If you say no, I'll awkwardly and probably standoffishly deal with you for a little while before we find a certain groove again. Or?"

"They have some real nice places in New York to look at lights." She took a deep breath. "It's tempting."

More than tempting. He scooted toward her, not caring about the cards at all as he brought her closer to him and snagged his first kiss with her.

His very first kiss with her. He'd been close in the other time, on that island, but it hadn't happened. Now, it did. Now, it was time. He felt her return the kiss and move closer to him.

* * *

**New York****, Before Christmas**

"This isn't a fine restaurant," Miss Charity complained as she came into the ice rink with her ice skates.

"There's lights ahead," Jarod pointed out. "Come on. In how many movies did they have couples ice skating in New York? It's too radical, we have to."

"You and your culture love." She spun around and laughed, giving him a quick kiss. "You're such a geek to the max. Fifteen minutes, it's cold out here."

Jarod grabbed her hand and ice skated with her for a short time. His senses were taking in everything around him. He didn't ever want to forget it. The lights in the trees. In the nearby buildings. Her smile. Her laugh. Them spinning. The feel of her in his arms verses holding her gloved hand. Everything he could possibly imagine. Unlike what he said when he first announced his New York plans?

They hadn't waited at all. That very day they had their first date at a semi-nice restaurant (Olive Garden was decently nice) and he shelled out for the best hotel he could that night, with any extra services he could.

This whole time, she had been as drawn to him as he had been to her. They rented that hotel for three days straight before finally breaking from it. Every night almost they were dating and loving each other in the hotel rooms they had passed along the way.

The whole brother/sister scheme quickly fell apart for the pretends too. She was either wife or girlfriend. Usually girlfriend, since it was her real life role now.

Them together? The previous time, where Jarod had lost everyone and had never got out until he was so much older? It was so different now. This time, it was so much better. He spun with her as he observed her eyes. They were always so full of life. That day he worried for her safety, the day she came back to him after leaving Broots. Those eyes, they were so lost. These eyes were found. With his.

"You know, you did find a pretend up here to take care of too, didn't you?" She knew him. "Come on, spill. Tell me about it."

He didn't want to yet. As soon as he did, she'd start making emotional art for it. "Tomorrow." He made her squeal slightly unexpectedly as he picked her up in his arms and skated away with her. He heard her call his name. "I promised lights, let's go look at some lights first." No art tonight. Tonight was his and hers.

Every night was his and hers, but especially tonight.

* * *

**Florida****. 1997**

Miss Charity watched the TV silently as her husband slept. That report. How different things used to be, watching it all. It was about a year or so ago that she would have been assigned to chase Jarod for The Centre. The hurricane that would have brought them face to face for a long amount of time in who knew how many years, was raging again. He'd already taken care of everything. Everyone was safely out of the way. Yet. Haunting. The way the broadcast was so similar.

"Honey?" Jarod was waking up, blinking at the TV. "What is it?"

"Hurricane Cassandra."

"Taken care of," he answered. "It's late. We need to hit the road tomorrow by 9:00 if we want to arrive on time for my next job."

She sighed softly and looked at him. To him, it must have been a thousand years away. It felt like a thousand years away to her, but she also knew, her life always had something wrong creep up within it, sending her right back down the wrong path. "We were in it last time. I remembered Raines being there, at the house when I was little. Out the window." Now Jarod was straightening up with vested interest. "To this day, he still haunts The Centre."

"But he never caught us," Jarod reminded her. "He never will." He looked back at the reports. "Oh yeah. The molar guy."

"The molar guy," she agreed.

"That was the first time we spent more than a few minutes with each other last time." Yeah, he picked it up. "It was interesting. It wasn't fun." He looked back toward her. "Are you okay?"

She felt a little dejected. She didn't mean to make him start worry. "Sorry. Some things just trigger." She felt him physically scoot her over in the bed and lie her down.

"Only thing I ever worry about is making sure you are okay." Yeah, she made him worry. She felt it in his kiss. "The here and now is all that matters. Okay?"

"No time travel." She'd promised it since 1984 to him and she kept it. But? Sometimes, she did worry. She'd been married to Jarod going on ten years. They traveled, setting things that went wrong, back to right. She'd never regretted a single day of those times with him. Something was tickling her still though.

"What is it?" Jarod asked. He made squishy kisses on her hand as he held it, trying to get her to smile. "My Miss Charity, I know that look. Something's not right with you. Share?"

"Raines." She said it.

"What about? We've avoided The Centre nearly fourteen years now," he pointed out. "You still feel scared of him."

Always. She'd known and married him long enough he of course knew the truth. Deep inside, she wasn't scared of many things. Except. Raines. Even as a child when she rescued her mother, she felt it was her sworn duty to take him out. Yet? It wasn't just losing all those years and being forced to go back that made her scared. It wasn't the time in the cage that she was with him. Yeah, cigarette burns hurt, but he mostly just left her there weak. Sometimes he struck too, but mostly? He was in other parts of The Centre. She was just weak and he wanted her to break. But? Even the best psychiatrist in the world, namely her husband. Even he couldn't get rid of it. "There's a note on the bathroom mirror."

Jarod got up and went into the bathroom. She watched him look into it. He glanced back at her.

Yeah. The one thing she still couldn't do. The memory of SL3, it exposed so many moments and memories between, and yet? It was still there, blaring at her. She'd woke up as if in a dream and did it again. Just like she had in the walls of Broots old home when she lived with him. "I don't remember writing it of course."

"I know," Jarod said softly.

"Jarod. I've been writing that off and on for years, with no . . . even in SL3, you've asked me about it and I don't ever know."

"Your deep memory that I can't remember," he corrected her. He really tried to break the ties of how they said things from The Centre. "I don't know."

"Do you think its mom?" It wasn't the first time she asked. She knew her mom must have traveled extensively from the way she spoke in Paris. The way she knew things. "Is she telling me to write them, somehow with her inner sense?"

Jarod just shrugged. He still didn't know either. He went over toward the bed and climbed back in comforting her. "Don't cry. I've never let him catch you, and I never will."

"I used to be so much stronger." Still. She would never be the same Miss Parker that had the guts to follow Jarod through a hurricane.

"You are very strong," Jarod disagreed. "There is no one stronger. Raines just . . . everyone has something it fears. It's okay."

She felt herself wrapped protectively in his arms, but still. It was that same message. Even in deep memory, she never remembered writing it. It was the only thing she never understood. As the years drug on, she found that living with Jarod put an end to most of the worries. She trusted and loved him. He protected her and he never let her down. Yet? It was the only thing she did keep writing. Usually with lipstick or a marker. She wrote it on the Dodge Charger at least fifty times in her lifetime. On walls. On mirrors. Randomly. She would never be gone for very long, a few seconds but then there it had been.

**Someone Else Kill Raines.**

With the byline that always chilled her and Jarod.

**Jarod Would Do It If He Knew.**

Almost 15 years and she was still writing that message. "Why?"

"I don't know." Jarod rocked her softly. "I'm always here though, every step of the way." He kissed the top of her head. "No matter what."

Jarod could never senselessly just go and kill Raines. He would if someone was in danger, but outright killing wasn't anything Jarod would ever do unless another life was on the line. She knew deep inside, she could never actually ask either. It would tear him up to have to kill anyone. No matter how good or bad. He was out there to avenge his sims, prevent catastrophe, and save others. He would never want to kill. But this long?

When would the strange message end?

* * *

Jarod got up later that night. He'd comforted his wife as best he could. He held her, he made love to her, and he cuddled her as much as possible. She eventually fell asleep.

He went to the bathroom mirror and looked in. _That damn reminder. _Written in lipstick once again. It was starting to pop up even more, he noticed that. _Kill Raines. I would do it if I knew. _She stopped writing all of the strange messages so long ago, except that one. She rarely even slid into a deep memory, just remembering what he did. The first time around when Jarod stayed in The Centre older, and then that time. When they escaped. They were almost always on the same wavelength. But then that just had to pop up. _I can't kill. I've never killed anyone directly. _He saved people. Raines was terrible but he'd never kill him anymore than he would have killed Mister Parker. If he was capable of it, he would have done it. It would have given his wife peace of mind.

A part of him wished he could do it. Put an end to this message. Sometimes, he really wanted to believe that it was Catherine who was whispering to her through time, telling her to write it. That he did have the steel iron heart it would take to kill someone. It nagged him, vibrated in his head constantly. Killing Raines wouldn't end The Centre. Someone else would take over. All killing him would do was take a life, and end his wife's messages. He loved Miss Charity with all his heart, but without knowing the exact reason why he needed to do it? Why he would do it? He just?

He took a washrag, got it wet and wiped off the lipstick message. He just didn't have it in him. _She'll get better. It's just lingering, irreparable damage. She's fine though. This damage isn't too bad. It's never worsened. _Just residual consequences. That's at least what he told himself.

Because if it wasn't residual. Yeah. He could never handle that thought.

"Do you have protection?"

He heard her voice. Wide awake now. "Do I ever? Haven't we been trying for a baby since forever?"

"Knock on wood." She knocked on the side of the bed. "I meant keep your gun nearby. Grab it and come to bed, Jarod."

"Don't need to bring the gun into bed." He went over and took it from the drawer and slid it under the bed for her comfort, but he didn't need it in the bed with them. Jarod moved over beside her. Before the 90's, she promised that if they had a baby, she wouldn't turn back time. It would be more dangerous to take a baby from place to place, but it would be just another step in their life. That and it would assure them they would never lose their memories of their time together. Only? He never wore anything. She never did. Nothing ever happened. She stopped worrying years ago, convinced she wouldn't have a baby until it was the key. A certain time. They'd been together as friends, as lovers, and as a married couple for years. If he ever lost track of her. If she ever lost track of him. That would be the end of their happy lives and all their memories and years with each other would be gone.

Until it was time though. Time for apparently his son, already named Nathan, to be there. They couldn't do anything. Just stay near. Just hold on. That's how they lived their life so far. That's how they'd always live it.

He snuggled close beside her. As close as possible. He'd never messed up in almost fifteen years, and he'd continue that streak forever. His little time traveling wife would never go anywhere.

* * *

**Miss Parker Remembers: The original time of the 90's and going back in time to 1973. Her and Jarod now travel and spend their days correcting his pretends and making art. She still has something messing with her mind though, every once in awhile. Something she doesn't understand.  
**

**Jarod: The original time of the 90's and going back in time to 1973. He shared her with Broots for many years, but now he rides with her by his side.**

**Broots: His memory of time travel is now gone. He doesn't know Miss Parker or Jarod.**


	31. Giving It Up For Her

**1999**

Jarod arrived to their temporary home with a bounce in his step. This? This should really help her. It would also let him explain to her something he had needed to for quite a few years, he just? Didn't want her to worry anymore about it. He opened the screen door and looked in. Miss Charity was on the computer designing graphics for his next pretend. "I got a surprise for you."

She turned to look toward him. "A surprise? What?"

He strolled over and brought her it. He watched her eyes on the newspaper. "Raines is dead, Honey." No more nightmares. No more messages she needed to worry about. Raines could never catch her, he was gone.

He heard the sign of relief in her voice. "Then you've been right. I damaged my own brain all these years." She put the paper down. "It's really over."

"Yeah. There's something else too. I know you aren't going to be happy about it." Jarod took a deep breath. "In the future, the one you said you changed, when you had this baby Nathan?" He watched her eyes. "That past was still this changed past. Meaning." Oh, how could he put it? "You said it was The Centre that did it, it wasn't us being intimate."

"Nowhere near that, I was chasing you down," she admitted.

Her mind. It wasn't her fault. His wife had been changed in so many subtle ways to all the time disruption. Some was good, and some wasn't so good. Had she thought better about it, she would have realized before she even asked about a baby. "Then that means, Nathan doesn't come from our intimacy."

"I don't understand?" She shook her head. "What do you mean? He's ours. Born in . . . probably a year or so finally."

Nope. She wasn't getting it. "Honey? I don't have what conceives the puzzle key. The Centre does." He watched her. Did she understand? "I always thought eventually we'd have one. It didn't matter to me which one it had been. I even had Kyle dig deeper into the Centre when I explained that it would make sure that you and I would never forget each other." But? "There's nothing. We were always thorough, to make sure The Centre couldn't create anymore clones or experiment with me in any way." He swore he saw a little recognition in her eyes.

"We've never been able to have a puzzle key." She figured it out. "The Centre. They had it from before you escaped."

"It took time to completely clear out The Centre of everything. It was important to get everything out. We'd done that before you mentioned wanting to . . ." He sighed. "At first, when Broots and I learned about how our memories worked? We fought over you. You even kept the secret of the puzzle key from me, and told Broots. He knew for many years," he reminded her. "You weren't comfortable with it. The thought of a child bearing time travel. I thought you didn't want that, until you said something later."

Yeah. She turned with a groan. "Wha? Then why didn't you tell me?"

"Because." Jarod gestured to the newspaper's obituary section he just brought in. "Until you no longer worried about Raines, I wasn't going to make you worry extra about something we couldn't change. Your mind? I have to be gentle with it. If you knew we could never create a puzzle key? I didn't want you feeling scared and full of anxiety the rest of your life."

"And if I had gotten pregnant?" She asked him.

"If it was a boy, it'd be named Nathan. If it was a girl?" Jarod shrugged. "I'd just say 'maybe it's the next'. I didn't want to lie, but . . ." He watched her pick the obituaries up.

"For the safety of my mind." She nodded and placed it back down. "I get it."

"We can still have kids too. I mean, not naturally I suppose," Jarod pointed out. "You know I'm really good at finding kids who need homes."

"I don't know." She was more interested in the obituary right now. "There's nothing to fear. He's dead. He can't do anything else." Her eyes darted from side to side.

"What's wrong?" Jarod asked her. It was over. "Honey? What?"

"Jarod. If Raines is dead, but I still feared him. Enough to write that for all these years?"

"It's just residual damage," Jarod tried to convince her again. "Nothing more." Those eyes though. What? "Miss Charity?" He watched her gulp. "What's wrong?"

"What if he did something back then."

Hm? "What are you thinking?"

"My gentle brain that has trouble putting some things together," she pointed out. "What if it's not . . . you know, in Paris. I know. I told you, didn't I? Maybe I didn't? I? SL4 was the closest to brain damage. So then?" She scratched her head. "I have that right, right?"

"Well . . ." Oh. "You're going to a doctor right now."

* * *

**Local Hospital**

The fake identity wouldn't last long to get in, but Jarod didn't want to wait weeks to get into somewhere as a doctor. He needed his wife checked out, now. Once they ran the tests though, he did fake his way into the back to get into looking at the scans himself. "And you call yourself a genius." He touched the X-Ray. "I would if I knew."

He went back out, angrily, at himself. She was the one who thought of it, and not until after Raines was already dead. All those years! He banged the doors open as he tried to think. "Okay, Jarod." He paced back and forth. She said that message over and over. There had to be a reason. There had to be something to it. He couldn't let it end this way. "Years and years of writing it, there has to be something to it!" He kicked a door. "There has to be!" He wouldn't just let it go.

"Your damaging doors, Jarod." Her voice came from behind. "My mind isn't what it used to be, but I know what that means. How long do I have?"

"You're not dying." Jarod turned around and looked back toward her. "I should have killed him."

"It wouldn't make much difference," she pointed out. "I became Angelo's girlfriend the slow way around, didn't I?"

Of course she knew. A fate worse than death she had confided in him. But? She didn't want to go on that way.

"When I'm not myself anymore, find a way to end it. It doesn't have to be you." She rubbed her elbow. "There's something else. Kyle just called me." Her expression. It was hard to even read. "He found Broots dead where Raines should be."

Broots. Jarod was married securely to Miss Charity for fifteen years, but in the end? Broots was always still a choice. Always two keys until a puzzle key. There was another key now, and if Broots was gone?

"He was always so careful." She closed her eyes. "So careful." She didn't speak real fast. "Broots good. Miss Broots. Like brother."

Broots was careful. Lived all those years being extra careful, but The Centre's technology finally outdid him. _Raines is her other key. _He would get pulled to her. He was the unlocking key too, all he had to do was break them apart.

No. "I know I promised that you should never do it." Jarod came nearer to his wife. She was so out of it. "Raines is your key, and he is going to take you to The Centre in place of his experiments he did with Angelo." She knew that. "We can run, but . . ." No. No, she never wanted to live that way. Ever. "You have nothing more to risk. I find a way to end this torment for you, or you risk one more time." Her sanity was in trouble either way.

"Nyuh?" She stared at Jarod. "Change past. Not be same. Someone else kill Raines. Jarod would if he knew."

"The phrase." Of course. "Then that means?" That meant. They already did it. In another time, they must have arrived at this exact spot.

"Turning. Turning. Same place, Jarod. Same time, Jarod." Her speech was already being affected. The way she stared at him, glassy eyed.

"I would take care of you the rest of your life," Jarod told her. "You don't want that though." It was death or time travel. They must have tried it once before, and apparently, her mind was so far apart with it's damage? She didn't blend with SL3. Deep memory. She couldn't explain any further than-"

"Jarod would if he knew. Someone else kill Raines. Jarod would if he knew."

"Endless loop." No. "How long can I retain memories of this time?" He knew it was deep. He knew it only happened in an emergency, but he knew a puzzle key granted access. Being close granted access. "If we were intimate right beforehand? Can I remember?" She said her mom said 'bom chicka wow wow', one time. That had to be the intimacy. That had to be it.

"I . . . I don't know?" She was going and fast.

"Then one more time." He brought her close and kissed the top of her forehead.

He raced her to their temporary home, brought her to their temporary bed and ignored the entire world. Only two things could happen. Two.

When she went back in time, he'd remember, and do what he needed to do. It would risk everything, their entire future, but it would save her and Broots.

Or? He would have spent one more time making love with his wife before her mind was gone forever.

Holding her close afterwards, so close, he whispered to her. He hated to put her there, but it would be vivid, and it would definitely be a 'breaking point'.

"No suckers," she groaned. "No more suckers."

"No suckers. Ash, in the air," he said. "Your neck is throbbing. You know that it's almost the end."

"No, Jarod, not there. Already going, please."

He watched her cry, but wiped her tears. It had to be this way. "His voice is so vicious above you, but you try to be brave. When he asks you about where I am? You tell him?"

"Jarod."

"What do you tell him?"

* * *

**1975**

"I think I saw him . . ." her eyes glanced up to his. "Dancing with the kids down on Sesame Street." She was rewarded with a backhand, but she was used to it. _You'll never live long enough to start the wheezing._

"This is no game, he broke into my house!" Raines yelled at her. "Fifty thousand. Fifty thousand! I had need of that money. The Centre is not mine, I_ need_ that money."

She'd say something else, she wanted to, but now? She was too weak with everything he did. Even if she knew what was coming, she couldn't do anything. Her body wouldn't permit it.

"He must have told you something," Raines insisted. "You were gone for a month and a half before my people found you."

She didn't answer. Her memory wouldn't stick around much longer, it was too messed up. She could feel it.

"Do we have to go through round two again? Or round three of some persuasive tactics?" He growled. "I am almost out of patience with you. It's been two months. I am getting to the point where I _am_ starting to believe you, Miss Parker." He took a drag of his cigarette and blew it in her face. "I'll admit? I thought you were a scared little girl, just like your mother. You've got a lot more fire than I gave you credit for. I hope I can use that later on for my use." He covered her mouth as he put his cigarette out on the wall near her head. It didn't frighten her. "Jarod is too close. We are going to make sure that even if he gets you? He never wins. Especially after stealing that much from me. So, my Angelo?" He almost smirked. "I think he's ready for his new girlfriend finally."

That comment made her start to struggle. That was it. What she feared. What he said! He used to say that to make her straighten up. It was what he said to put fear into her eyes. _Angelo. _It wasn't death, it was worse than death. Being turned into something like Angelo. "I tried, I tried, I tried, I'll try harder!" She closed her eyes and tried to envision something from the future. _Smell something. Hear something. See something. Something! _

He continued to hold his hand over her mouth, and she was trying to bite the skin on his palm. Make him feel some pain. Still, she was a kid, and he was a man in his prime now. It didn't take long before he had the syringe near her neck, shooting her up. _Goodbye Parker. It's been a hell of a ride._

"You know what you have to do, if you don't want to become him," Raines insisted as he grabbed the next syringe. "You know." He held the syringe up toward her neck as he played the old elevator music for her to hear. "You remember this tune."

She could smell her mother's perfume. "No." She opened her eyes, hoping to see it somewhere.

"Sink deeper," Raines said as he injected her with the second syringe. "You remember that day. You have to remember that day, or you will end up like him. My tolerance is over after this shenanigan. I think you'll have a better chance being filled with more . . . empathy."

"I will send you to the earliest grave I ever can," she warned him as she tried to struggle. "I'll kill you Raines!"

"Look at that spirit. Still going," Raines said. "What were they talking about that day around the elevator?"

"Momma never died on the elevator. Why bother?!" Her head started to move back and forth. "She never died on that elevator."

"And how do you_ know_, Little Miss Parker?" Raines asked softly. "Where was she when she died?"

_No. Don't lose it. _Raines suspected something. He had an inkling of her mother's true gift with her inner sense, but he still wasn't certain. He was looking for a loophole too. Jarod probably got out Ethan. A loophole. He thought she was the loophole. _If I'm not the loophole, he'll turn me. _If he found out she was the loophole? What if he had plans on tapping that kind of power? "She was." He glared at her. "Dancing with the kids on Sesame Street."

She saw him going for the third needle. By the time she woke up. She knew she'd never be Miss Parker again.

Except that she heard the sounds of bells , someone tumbling.

* * *

Jarod didn't say anything as he pulled the syringe out of Raines' neck. He'd snuck up behind him, jumped him, and tackled him around long enough to get the syringe in and Raines to the ground. He didn't bother with words or snipes. He didn't know how long this gift of deep memory would last and there was only one thing he needed to do. While Miss Parker had lost her mind to SL4 after doing something heinous so young, when she was so innocent? Jarod never felt very innocent. Even young. He had to pretend, imagine, to be so many things. He had killed so many people. His mind was steel, it wasn't a gentle mind like a girl with no experience at the time. Even back then? If he had to. He knew he would have.

And he did.

"Jarod." Raines made for the counter syringe that would reverse the process, but Jarod had grabbed it faster. He didn't even struggle. He didn't say any words.

Raines grabbed at his neck, feeling the effects set in more. "I was . . . deciding," he admitted. He started to stumble. "She was such a weak little girl. I figured a week or so, but she was too interesting to let go. Her mind, it felt like her mom's. And her baby brothers. You took him, didn't you?"

Once again, Jarod didn't say anything.

"I was starting to explore that gift, and she was so less weak than I thought. I even toyed with letting her live and taking The Centre when she got older." He was holding onto the wall now. "But you. You . . . forced my hand."

Jarod bent down toward him on the ground. There was no amusement in his eyes. "If I injected you with 5 cc's of what you just gave her, it will paralyze you for about a week. 10 cc's is gonna hold you hostage for a few months. 15 cc's? Will end all of your troubles forever." Jarod squeezed the syringe slightly that he injected him with previously. There was nothing left. "This held 25 cc's."

"You . . . wouldn't kill me," Raines countered him. "Sydney's little do-gooder." He stared at the syringe. "You squeezed some out."

No answer. No quip. Nothing.

Now? Raines looked worried. "No, you wouldn't! You're fifteen and you don't . . . you never would. Sydney taught against that kind of thing, you . . ." Jarod's expression didn't change. He watched Raines slowly lose his functions. He went ahead and rescued Angelo then grabbed Little Miss Parker. Raines? He was as good as gone.

* * *

**A Closer and Nicer Hotel Than Last Time**

Miss Parker opened her eyes. Angelo and Jarod were there. She was in a bed in some kind of hotel. A nice hotel. She watched as Jarod handed her a burger. She wanted food, but she also wanted washed. She noticed her hands were already cleaned. They had been nice enough to clean her hands to let her eat. "Jarod?"

"Don't talk. Just eat and rest. I'll be here," he promised her.

That was a surprise. As she ate the food, he said something else.

"If Raines said something about a GPS system, ignore it. It's fake," he added.

She looked back toward him. It was fake? "Thanks for telling me."

Jarod nodded to her. Something was different about him. Something that wasn't just his age. She noticed his arm. He seemed to have gotten a tattoo. Weird. "Did you want to rest first or take a shower? I can help you take a shower, or you can wait until you have more strength." Jarod offered. "The effects should be reversing soon."

Uh? A shower sounded good, but actual rest in a bed now that she was in it? "Rest." He simply nodded.

* * *

Jarod didn't sleep a wink this time. He didn't bother her with what Raines said, just let her rest and kept his eyes out for Sydney. He had seen the familiar car of Broots', but as long as he was up and alert, he wasn't taking her. Now that Sydney was there, he was having him take a great deal of money to his parents, and Angelo. Although Broots had helped create 'Charity', it also put her through unnecessary pain. _My wife doesn't need to forget. She just needs support. _She would have to go through too many hard moments again. His job as her husband, time travel or not, was to protect her. Now and forever.

While Angelo rested on the other bed, Jarod took a memo pad and a pen that was resting in the phone area.

He wrote to his past self. If there was anything Jarod had been, especially after all of the time travel, it was mature beyond his years. He let him know the most important things, especially about her mind. Raines had done things he didn't know. Even Miss Parker had said she didn't know what he did when her mind was Little Miss Parker. Most likely it was a slow drain against her, but as long as he watched it, he could save it. He let him know about Broots too, letting him know that he shouldn't ever be the only key. While he had déjà vu to her right now, he would eventually not know her. He'd move on with his life, and there was a good chance he could end up on the same path as before. There was even a chance he might be able to have his daughter, Debbie. He deserved his daughter.

He wrote a few more things as he watched his young wife sleeping in the bed. He'd go around time again for her. Even if he couldn't retain all the memories of all their times before for a long time. Even if he was risking what had been such a great future for them? He had to, for her. That reminded him. "Don't forget about Nathan." He went ahead and gave himself the interesting instructions that would probably make him raise his eyebrows a thousand times. They wouldn't do it for a long time.

Somewhere out there, there was one child for him and Parker. One. If they wanted him, they were going to have to do some work.

He tried not to overwhelm him with much else. His wife was bound to tell his younger minded self about how it worked and there were notes out there. He just needed to concentrate on what his younger mind _needed _to know. To have something that his other self never even knew was possible.

How to give him the best chances to spend the rest of his life with his wife. He glanced toward her one more time as he finished. "It's not goodbye." It would just be a long wait.

When Miss Parker opened her eyes again, her body felt stronger. She started to sit up and noticed Jarod beside her. She looked around herself. Wasn't Angelo there last time? "Morning."

He smiled. "Morning. Breakfast?"

"Las Vegas was a bust," she said. "I had some bad dreams."

"Doesn't matter," Jarod said softly. "I'll stay with you."

Hm? "Didn't you get to your family?"

"I told Sydney they can wait a little while for us. I've got to take care of some things first with you."

Wait? He wanted to make his family wait? "Like what?"

"Well?" He looked confused. "I know my own writing. And? Apparently. Time travel is a lot more complicated than we think." He smirked at her, almost like he knew something about what she just dreamed about in her mind. "Breakfast, Miss C. It'll make you feel better. Then we'll get you a shower."

Miss C? "I thought it was Miss A. Miss B should still be the default if you ask me." Yet?

"Nah. I think Miss C. is perfect for a partner."

Partner? "Jarod. I'm fourteen. You're fifteen." He just shrugged. "You aren't seriously asking me to go out on pretends with you? Pretends? With you? At this age?"

She watched as he approached her and gave her a kiss on her head.

Different. Very different. How had he changed in a year's time so much?

* * *

Jarod listened to what Raines had told her about heart and keys but his older self told him what really mattered. Time travel was more complicated than what she said. Just? Stay away from Broots so he had a chance to have Debbie, keep the Centre at least twice the distance he had in the past, and stay near Miss Parker. Dissuade her from trying to time travel. He could help his family, but he needed to help Miss Parker too. He needed to introduce her to art, and help her explore her talents. If he did it right? If he followed the advice.

He could have something else. Something he never dreamed that he could have, even through time travel.

Miss Parker.

There were bound to be some hard turns. Some hard lessons. There was a good chance Broots would still get pulled to her since keys always found the heart. Anything could happen, any bad ending could now take place. The future was uncertain. But? If he kept his focus though. Just, focused on the only thing that really did matter.

To keep her close.

Just keep her close.

And someday?

He looked back at the end of the letter.

_Take care of your wife, Jarod._

"What are you looking at?" She moaned from the bed.

Jarod smirked and pocketed the paper. "Nothing, Miss C. I got you some new clothes including a pretty dress already, so do you want to take your shower now?"

* * *

**Miss Parker Remembers: The original time of the 90's and going back in time to 1973. Her and Jarod had been with each other for so long but her memory was starting to leave her . . . when she travels back, she is back on the same path she had once been. She now remembers only about as much as Jarod knows, except with her mother and the Paris memories attached to it.  
**

**Jarod: The original time of the 90's and going back in time to 1973. Jarod briefly remembers the future where he made Miss Parker go backward to save her. In the end, he doesn't remember her being his wife or anything, but he knows what is at stake. He's just doing his best to take care of her now.  
**

**Broots: His memory of time travel is only glimpses.**


	32. Epilogue

**Epilogue.**

"Do you mind telling me what in the world we are doing out here, Jarod?" Miss Parker asked him. She yawned. "I should be inside. Incubating."

Jarod chuckled at her choice of words. "A little time off. Mom is making a great babysitter," he insisted as he held her hand and brought her out to the ice. For several years, once they started to have a relationship, they had to actively look for a way to make their 'Nathan'. One boy, one chance. At first, Jarod hadn't remembered, it was always what he'd written down. The other side that had known the future. If he wanted to be and stay with Miss Parker, and end the whole miserable deal for them both, they needed to have their only child, Nathan. Explaining that to anyone wasn't easy. Her actively trying artificial insemination at a younger college age also wasn't easy for everyone to understand.

They didn't understand either, except that their notes kept pressing them. Like each other? Say it. Love each other? Have Nathan. It was a weird experience that every time him and Kyle invaded The Centre and found any DNA on Jarod, he needed to bring it back and try to impregnate his own wife. A real weird sensation. Then, when it finally happened?

Nathan was a solid one and a half. It wasn't a big festival or party for her decision. Parker of course chose him as the child she was supposed to have, so he became a winner of time. So did Jarod. So did Parker.

At least, that's what she called it. Jarod called it insanely lucky and aggravating at the same time. It had only happened yesterday, that ultimate decision, but now he felt like he'd led many lifetimes. If he stopped to think about every timeline he was in or changed, it hurt his head too much. He often closed the door on most of it, but kept the most important memories close to him. Like_ why_ he went back in time and why he had Nathan. It was all worth it.

Had he not done anything, he would have lost her forever. She would have continued writing about Raines if he hadn't killed him. He would have been unable to see what was happening to her as fast. And another bonus?

Jarod kept Broots from ever finding her. Even when his memory returned and he tried something, Jarod was right there to make sure he didn't come close. Eventually he stopped. He hadn't heard a thing from Broots anymore, but he did look into him. Without the need to protect Parker, he had found his original path in life.

And his wife had Debbie on the way. She would even be named the same according to what he could find for announcements.

A part of Miss Parker had hated that. She grew up with Broots. He took care of her like family, yet she couldn't see him anymore. She knew of their other future after Nathan was chosen too. But? She was better for it. She had the options Jarod had now. To close off her mind, and only hold what she wanted to keep close to herself. It allowed her to live, free. While the rest could be recovered at any time just be thinking about it hard, but neither of them really wanted to push it. They didn't need to remember every which way life had gone for them.

They just needed to remember this. She saved him. She went to Las Vegas, he rescued her, and he took care of her ever since. Most times, that's all they wanted. But sometimes, they would tread into more. Their lives were theirs, intertwined in a thousand different ways and sometimes subtle events would happen, reminding them of a different path. Like now.

The first time they ice skated, she hadn't been his wife that was already safely with Nathan. They were just a starting couple, wrapped up in their feelings. So wrapped up he even-

"Jarod!" Miss Parker called out as he picked her up and started to move her off the ice. "What are you doing?"

"I want to see the Christmas lights with you, from our hotel room," he insisted to her. "There's not much I like to experience again, but I'd_ always_ experience that with you, Miss Parker." He rubbed her nose with his a moment, causing her to wrinkle hers. "Any_ time_."

* * *

When they arrived up into their hotel room, Jarod opened the door and saw his mother. She still hid. She always hid. In none of the times did she never not hide, but she still came out. Especially for him, her only grandson throughout all of time. She stared lovingly over Nathan's toddler bed.

"Back so soon?" She questioned Jarod. "I thought you'd be skating for awhile."

"Can't stay away too long from him." Jarod approached the toddler bed and waved at his son. As he watched his son trying to get out from the bed to go to a small drum in the room, he remembered the first time he had ever seen him. In another time. "Still the little explorer." Jarod picked him up and set him out by his drums.

"Jarod. You'll make it harder for him to go to sleep," Miss Parker reminded him.

Jarod didn't care. He watched the boy that wasn't supposed to exist again, beating on the drums. Slowly. Methodically. Listening. Jarod sat down next to him and drummed on the other side. He watched Nathan look at him, like he was invading on his territory. "You have to get good at sharing the world with others. Not everyone's like you." In fact, no one was like him, and there'd never be another him.

Nathan tilted his head slightly. "More please?"

"No, no way." Miss Parker answered for Jarod.

"You can't have candy this late. It's bedtime. Your lucky I gave extra time with your drum," Jarod reminded him.

"More please juice?"

"No, not at night," Jarod told him.

"More please water?"

"No water, you had water," his grandma's voice said from behind them. "Bedtime."

"Okay." He stretched his arms out to his daddy. Jarod picked him up again and put him in his bed. His son was going to grow up brilliant. Hopefully, he was brilliant enough never to use time travel unless he absolutely had to. It was doubtful Miss Parker would ever want to teach him anyway. That would be fine with Jarod too.

Jarod would never regret all the time traveling. What Miss Parker did, or his own decision to relive it all again for her. While it had some terrible results, it was all worth it. Without it, he would never be there right now.

With his mother.

With Nathan.

With his Miss Parker.

"Do you have any idea how lucky we are that you get to be here?" He questioned his son. Nathan didn't say anything. He had no idea how much time changed. How many things could have gone wrong. Jarod kissed him on the top of his head goodnight. "Pleasant dreams, little man. Live your life the best you can." So he never had to figure out the power that Catherine Parker had been cursed with. The power that almost drove Miss Parker crazy.

That crazy, amazing, blessed and cursed power of time travel.

* * *

**Author's Note: I figured I would put a solid ending on this one, so that I could explain the next two Pretenders _much better_. I am a big fan of multiple endings. (It's why I also write Undertale and DBH) and I saw multiple possibilities, which is why this story was tricky. Branching to every part ending was tricky, and my life has made a sudden turn. A good turn, but an unexpected one that puts my fanfictions a little (a lot) behind now. So, after thinking about it, I decided to write the alternate endings I craved (three because three is always a magic good number for me)It's very similar to the original flow I wanted, but a_ lot less_ complicated now.  
**

**Ending 1: This is ending one. A happily ever after with Nathan, Parker and Jarod. Sydney raised his son, Angelo became Timmy, Kyle stayed alive, and Broots ended up with Debbie.**

**Ending 2: The PK's: Has no time travel, but has Miss Parker torn between whether she is a time traveler or not due to events that have happened to her. This story way sort of inspired Lesser Pretender afterward.  
**

**Pre-Ending 3: The End of Charity: Inner Sense Tattoos Alternate Ending: This is time travel at its finest! Somewhat sad. I cried a little. This is how Inner Sense Tattoos would have ended, if Lyle had been stopped from murdering his best friend when he was younger. (Title might change, it's super long.)  
**

**Ending 3: Centre of a Dream is best action/adventure thriller ending! No one even mentions time travel, believing it is a strange Centre Dream Experiment.  
**


End file.
